DM  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD 


MORNING  TALKS  AND   STORIES 

FOR 

Kindergartens,  Primary  Schools  and  Homes 
BY  EMILIE  POULSSON-  :  ;  VM 

Author   of   Love    and  Law    in  Child    Training,   Nursery- 
Finger   Plays,  Through   the   Farmyard  Gate,  Child 
Stories  and  Rhymes,   etc. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  L*  J.  BRIDGMAN 

FIFTY-NINTH  THOUSAND 
1912 

MILTON  BRADLEY  CO., 

SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 

Boston  New  York  Philadelphia  Atlanta  San  Francisco 


\  *}_      '  Copyright,  1893, 

BY  MILTON  BRADLEY  COMPANY. 
Springfield,  Mass. 

Registered  at  Stationers"  Hall,  London,  England. 
All  Rights  Reserved. 


J.  F.  TAPLEY  CO. 

New  York 


FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Frontispiece,  "  O  apple!     Come  down  to  me." 

Birds,            10 

Where  the  Logs  Go, 21 

The  Carpenter,           ,        .        c 29 

The  Sundial,            35 

Leaves, 44 

Getting  Well, 55 

The  Wind  at  Work, 63 

The  Pigeon  House,         .........  75 

The  Baker, 83 

Patty  Thanking  Old  Bob,     ......                .        .  95 

Poor  Bunny, 103 

Little  Christel, 112 

Santa  Claus  and  the  Mouse, 123 

Father  Time's  Procession, 137 

The  Cat, 143 

Going  to  the  Blacksmith's, 153 

Milking, 159 

Five  Dogs, 179 

The  Cobbler, 185 

Philip's  First  Valentine, 193 

George  Washington, 199 

The  Blacksmith, 203 

The  Miner, 211 

Forms  of  Water, 221 

Water  at  Work, 229 

Mr.  Stickleback  and  his  Nest,      ..."....  249 

Gathering  Sap, 261 

The  Boy  Ran  on  the  Other  Side  of  the  Path,         .        ,        .  273 


285585 


VI  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Sunset  was  a  Favorite  Sight, 277 

The  Sparrow's  Home, 287 

Baltimore  Orioles  and  Nest, 293 

Papilio  Turnus, 305 

Attacus  Cecropia, 319 

The  Farmer, 327 

Speckle  and  the  Swallow, 339 

Bees  Going  Marketing,  .        . 349 

Homes  for  the  Bees,  . 355 

Which  Do  You  Like  Best? .  369 

At  the  Seashore, 381 

The  Rainbow, 395 

Little  Linda, 403 

A  Weaver  at  Her  Loom,       . 411 

Shearing  the  Sheep, 415 

Picking  the  Cotton, o        .        .  423 

From  Flax  to  Paper, 427 

In  the  Silk  Factory, .        .  435 


CONTENTS. 


1.  Fruits 3 

The  Sleeping  Apple,  From  the  German. 
Wait  and  see,  Josephine  Jarvis, 

2.  Birds  in  Autumn 11 

Lisa  and  the  Birds,  E.  P. 

The  Crane  Express,  Holmes'  Third  Reader, 

Bird  Thoughts. 

3.  Wood 17 

The  Logging  Ca.mp,  Josephine  Jarvis . 
The  Honest  Woodman,  Retold  by  E.  R 

4.  The  Carpenter *        25 

Little  Deeds  of  Kindness,  B.  P. 
An  Old-fashioned  Rhyme,  E.  P. 

5.  The  Clock 33 

What  the  Clock  Told  Dolly,  Minnie  G.  Clark. 
The  Discontented  Pendulum,  Jane  Taylor. 

6.  Autumn ,45 

The  Baby  Buds'  Winter  Clothes,  Josephine  Jarvis. 
An  Autumn  Song,  E.  P. 
The  Kind  Old  Oak,  "  Little  Flower  Folks." 
The  Chestnut  Boys,  Helen  Towne. 

7.  Seeds 51 

Five  Peas  in  a  Pod,  Hans  Christian  Andersen. 

Psyche's  Task,  F.  H. 

Apple-Seed  John,  Lydia  Maria  Child. 

8         The  Wind 62 

How  West  Wind  Helped  Dandelion,  E.  P. 

The  Dandelion  Cycle,  E.  P. 

Odysseus  and  the  Bag  of  Winds,  F.  H. 

North  Wind  at  Play,  From  the  German,  as  told  by  Harriet  Ryan. 


Vlll  CONTENTS 


9.      The  Pigeons 73 

The  Fantail  Pigeon,  Mary  Dendy. 
Pearl  and  Her  Pigeons,  Helen  Keller. 
The  Constant  Dove,  Celia  Thaxter. 
The  Dove  and  the  Ant,  yEsop. 
A  True  Pigeon  Story,  M.  F, 

10.  The  Baker 82 

The  Johnny  Cake. 
The  China  Rabbit  Family,  E.  P. 
Teddy's  Birthday  Cake,  B  P. 
Nero  at  the  Bakery,  E.  P. 

11.  Thanksgiving  Day  ........         90 

A  Boston  Thanksgiving  Story,  E.  P. 
How  Patty  Gave  Thanks,  E.  P. 

12.  Winter 98 

The  Thrifty  Squirrels,  Mary  Dendy. 
Jack  Frost  and  His  Work,  E.  P. 

13.  The  Flower  Basket,  or  Loving  and  Giving      ...        106 

Little  Servants,  Sidney  Dayre. 
Extract  from  the  Dream  of  Little  Christel. 
The  Wake  Up  Story,  Eudora  Bumstead. 
The  Go  Sleep  Story,  Eudora  Bumstead. 

14.  Christmas 117 

Christmas  in  the  Barn,  Frances  Arnstein. 
Santa  Claus  and  the  Mouse,  E.  P. 
The  Birds'  Christmas,  F.  E.  Mann. 
Piccola,  Celia  Thaxter. 

15.  The  New  Year .        .        131 

An  All-the-Year-Round  Story,  E.  P. 
The  Fairy's  New  Year  Gift,  E.  P. 

16.  The  Cat 140 

My  Jet,  M.  V.  Gillin. 

A  Kitten  Rhyme,  E.  P. 

Spotty's  Family,  Josephine  Jarvis. 

17.  The  Horse 148 

A  Wise  Old  Horse,  "  Nursery  Stories." 

Pegasus,  F.  H. 

The  Horse  that  Fed  His  Friend,  "  St.  Nicholas." 

18.  The  Cow 157 

The  Story  the  Milk  Told  Me,  Gertiude  H.  Noyes. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Cow  that  Lost  Her  Tail,  E.  Knatchbull-Hugessen. 
Lord  Cornwallis'  Knee-buckles,  Holmes'  Third  Reader. 

19.  The  Dog 174 

How  Frisk  Came  Home,  '"•  Nursery  Stones." 
Cleverness  of  a  Sheep  Dog,  ''Little  Folks.'' 
The  Dog  and  the  Kitten. 
A  True  Story  of  a  Dog. 

20.  The  Cobbler 181 

Goody  Two  Shoes,  Retold  by  E.  P. 

Seeing  Shoes  Made,  Josephine  Jarvis. 

The  Cobbler  and  the  Children,  Josephine  Jarvis, 

21.  St.  Valentine's  Day 191 

Philip's  Valentine,  E.  P. 

22.  Washington's  Birthday 197 

23.  The  Blacksmith 201 

Nahum  Prince,  E.  E.  Hale. 
Vulcan,  the  Mighty  Smith,  F.  H. 

24.  The  Miner 209 

Suggestions,  A  Kindergartner. 
The  Golden  Touch,  E.  P. 
Coal,  Helen  Keller. 

25.  Water,  I 216 

To  Whom  shall  We  Give  Thanks.? 

Snowflakes,  Josephine  Jarvis. 

The  Immortal  Fountain,  Lydia  Maria  Child, 

26.  Water,  II 227 

Stony  and  Rocky,  Annie  E.  Alien. 
The  Little  Hero  of  Haarlem. 
Do  What  You  Can. 
——Neptune,  F.  H. 
, ,The  Brook  and  the  Water  Wheel,  Charles  Foster, 

27.  Fishes 239 

The  Minnow's  Adventure,  E.  P. 
Mr.  Stickleback,  E.  P. 

28.  Trees 253 

The  Four  Apple  Trees,  E.  P. 
*—  The  Story  of  Echo,  F.  H. 
The  free,  B.  B/omsen. 
The  Maple  Tree's  Surprise,  F.  E.  Mam, 
Pussy  Willow,  Katti  L.  Brown. 


CONTENTS 


29.  Spring 263 

~~" Spring  and  Her  Helpers,  E.  P. 

The  Meeting  of  the  Winds,  Charles  Foster, 

The  Little  Worm  that  was  Glad  to  be  Alive,  Elizabeth  Peabody. 

A  Surprise,  Sue  Clark  Kimball. 

30.  Friedrich  Froebel 276 

Song  for  Froebel' s  Birthday,  E.  P. 

31.  Birds 282 

Jack  and  Jenny  Sparrow,  Charles  Foster, 
Little  Yellow-wing. 
Child  and  Bird,  William  Allingham. 
The  Sandpipers,  Josephine  Jarvis. 

32.  Birds'  Nests 292 

The  Scarecrow,  Celia  Thaxter. 
The  Nest  of  Many  Colors,  E.  P. 
The  Sparrow's  Nest,  Mary  Howitt, 

33.  The  Butterfly 302 

Some  Common  Butterflies. 

A  Lesson  on  Faith,  Margaret  Catty. 

34.  The  Caterpillar     .        . 313 

«  Such  a  Beauty,"  E.  P. 

35.  The  Farmer 321 

A  Barn-yard  Talk,  E.  P. 

The  Farmer  and  the  Birds,  Josephine  Jarvis. 

Little  Gustava,  Celia  Thaxter. 

36.  The  Hen  and  Chickens 331 

The  Lost  Chicken,  E.  P. 

Pe-wee's  Lesson,  "  Stories  for  the  Kindergarten  and  the  Home." 

The  Story  of  Speckle,  E.  P. 

37.  The  Bee,  I .        344 

The  Rhyme  of  the  Little  Idle  Boy,  E.  P. 
Edith  and  the  Bees,  Helen  Keller. 

38.  The  Bee,  II 352 

A  Narrow  Escape,  Maurice  Noel. 
Solomon  and  the  Bees,  J.  G.  Saxe. 
Mrs.  Flyaway,  Ada  Cook. 

39.  Flowers 366 


What  They  Did. 

The  Plant  Household,  E.  P. 


CONTENTS.  XI 


Clytie,  F.  H. 

Indian  Legend  of  the  Arbutus,  C.  E.  Belknap. 
The  Little  Plant,  Kate  L.  Brown. 

40.  Summer  ^ 379 

How  the  Beans  Came  Up,  F.  E.  Mann. 
Mabel  on  Midsummer  Day,  Mary  Howitt. 
The  Story  of  a  Breeze,  Mattie  McRoy. 

41.  Sunshine 393 

The  Wind  and  the  Sun,  Retold  by  E.  P. 

I The  Sunbeams,  E.  P. 

The  Story  of  the  Morning-glory  Seed,  Margaret  Eytinge. 
The  Water-bloom,  Celia  Thaxter. 

42.  The  Moon  and  the  Stars 401 

Linda  and  the  Lights,  E.  P. 

43.  The  Weaver 407 

A  Visit  to  the  Weaver,  Josephine  Jarvis. 
John's  Trousers,  Josephine  Jarvis. 

44.  Wool 413 

How  the  Little  Boy  Got  a  New  Shirt,  From  the  German. 

Translated  by  Louise  Stuart. 
Molly's  Lamb,  "  Stones  for  the  Kindergarten  and  the  Home.'''' 
Sequel  to  an  Old  Story,  E,  P. 

45.  Cotton 420 

Machinery  Magic,  Holmes'  Third  Reader. 
Cotton  Field  Stories,  E.  P. 

46.  Linen 426 

The  Flax,  Hans  Christian  Andersen 
The  Flax  Flower,  Mary  Howitt. 

47.  Silk  .434 

The  Life  of  a  Silk  Worm,  Nettie  Fleming. 

The  Silk  Worm,  Mary  Howitt. 

The  Goddess  of  the  Silk  vVorm,  E.  P. 

Alphabetical  Index 440 


PREFACE 


The  preparation  of  these  talks  and  stories  was  first  undertaken 
for  the  kindergartens  of  Boston  and  vicinity. 

With  the  talks  especially,  great  freedom  in  the  use  of  the 
material  offered  was  always  urged  as  essential  to  good  results, 
and  such  freedom  is  urged  more  than  ever,  in  submitting  the 
collection  to  a  wider  circle  of  teachers  and  children. 

The  subjects  follow,  somewhat,  the  course  of  the  kindergarten 
year,  but  selection  must  be  exercised,  since  there  is  often  under 
one  subject  more  than  enough  for  two  weeks'  work  with  the 
children. 

The  book  is  in  no  wise  intended  as  a  one-year  programme. 

Accuracy  of  fact  has  been  assiduously  sought,  and  in  view  of 
the  pains  taken,  and  the  authorities  consulted,  is  believed  to  have 
been  obtained.  Should  errors  be  found,  however,  notice  of  them 
would  be  gratefully  received. 

Reading,  more  or  lesr  closely  related  to  the  subject,  has  been 
suggested  in  the  hope  that  the  lists  will  prove  a  convenience  to 
the  teacher  and  tempt  her  to  avail  herself  of  the  refreshment  and 
inspiration  which  poet,  philosopher,  scientist  and  story-teller  are 
ready  to  give. 

While  most  of  the  stories  in  the  book  are  for  children  of  the 
kindergarten  age,  whether  at  home,  in  the  kindergarten,  or  in  the 
lower  grades  of  the  primary  school,  a  few  stories  are  intended 
expressly  for  older  children. 

Stories  of  nature  and  child-life,  of  history  and  of  mythology, 
have  all  found  place,  for,  as  the  best  educators  tell  us,  all  these 
kinds  are  necessary  for  the  symmetrical  development  of  the  facul- 


XIV  PREFACE. 


ties.  Like  the  talks,  the  stories  are  concerning  those  objects, 
activities,  festivals,  etc.,  which  belong  in  the  child's  world,  those 
with  which  he  is  in  actual  contact  or  has  some  relation,  and  of 
which  he  is  eager  to  talk  and  to  hear. 

Whatever  the  kind  of  story,  its  spirit  and  influence  have  been 
the  paramount  considerations. 

"  I  have  indited  thee   with  care  and  love, 
My  little  book;   and  now  I  send  thee  forth 
On  a  good  mission, 
In  sweet  homes  to  be  a  loving  guest, 
And  find  a  place  in  many  a  guileless  heart." 

Emilie  Poulsson. 
Boston,  Mass.,  1893. 


^'"i 


'u 


■^•^3 


The  contributors  to  this  volume  have  been  so  cordially  helpful,  that 
it  gives  me  pleasure  to  record  here  my  sincere  thanks  and  appreciation. 
For  kind  permission  to  use  stories  and  poems  specified  elsewhere  in 
the  book,  grateful  acknowledgments  are  also  rendered  to  the  following 
publishers:  — 

Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  Boston;  The  Century  Co.,  New  York; 
Youth's  Companion,  Boston;  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  Boston;  Henry  Holt  & 
Co.,  New  York;  Harper  Brothers,  New  York;  The  Kindergarten  Pub- 
lishing Co.,  Chicago;  The  Educational  Publishing  Co.,  Boston;  The  Charles 
Foster  Publishing  Co.,  Philadelphia;  The  University  Publishing  Co.,  New 
York;   The  Sunday  School  Association,  London.  ^'h^ 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


:1 


*# 


"  Go  little  book,  and  to  the  young  and  kind 
Speak  thou  of  pleasant  hours  and  lovely  things." 

"  Go   forth,  with  serious  style  or  playful  grace 
Winning  young  gentle  hearts;   and  bid  them  trace 
With  thee  the  Spirit  of  Love,  through  earth  and  air, 
On  beast  and  bird,  and  on  our  mortal  race. 
Go  forth, 

And  greet  thou  those  who  love  thee,  in  my  name, 
Yea,  greet  them  warmly! 

Little  book,  adieu!" 


FRUITS. 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

Though  this  talk  is  more  upon  the  apple  than  upon  fruits  in  general,  it  is 
better,  for  the  sake  of  comparison,  that  the  teacher  should  have,  besides  apples, 
a  pear,  peach,  plum  and  grapes  and  other  fruits,  as  convenient.  The  best 
illustrative  object  would  be  a  small  branch  bearing  both  fruit  and  leaves.  A 
colored  picture  of  the  apple  blossom  will  also  be  needed. 

Let  the  children  first  name  the  fruits  as  you  hold  them  up  one  by  one. 
Question  regarding  the  colors.  Let  some  of  the  children  distinguish  the  fruits 
by  touch  alone,  following  this  test  with  questions  upon  the  shapes.  Contrast 
the  velvety  skin  of  the  peach  with  the  smooth  skin  of  the  apple  and  pear. 

Let  other  children  name  the  fruits  by  the  sense  of  smell,  and  others  by  the 
sense  of  taste,  either  now  or  later,  during  the  games,  or  at  lunch  time. 

Take  care  that  each  of  these  exercises  is  profitable,  requiring  the  child  to 
discriminate  by  the  one  sense  alone. 


IN   THE   CHILD'S   V/ORLD. 


THE  TALK. 

Where  did  the  fruits  come  from?  (If  the  children  get  beyond 
**  the  fruit  stand  "  and  give  the  general  answer  **  from  the  trees," 
lead  them  to  notice  that  each  kind  of  fruit  comes  from  its  own 
kind  of  tree.) 

Do  you  think  it  takes  the  apple  tree  a  long  time  to  get  the 
apples  ready?  Indeed  it  does,  a  long,  long  time.  Some  of  the 
older  children  who  were  in  kindergarten  last  year  may  remember 
the  apple  blossoms  we  saw  in  the  springtime.  (Show  picture  of 
apple  blossom.) 

When  the  pretty  pink  and  white  petals  dropped  off  the  stem, 
there  was  a  tiny,  hard,  green  knob  at  the  end  of  it,  and  all  the 
spring  and  all  the  summer  this  little  green  knob  grew  and  grew 
and  grew.  Finally,  late  in  the  summer  or  in  autumn,  the  apple 
was  full-grown  and  ripe.  (A  series  of  quick  drawings,  showing 
the  gradual  enlargement  of  the  growing  apple,  will  interest  and 
impress  the  children,  if  done  in  a  spirited  manner.  The  first 
figures  of  the  series  could  be  drawn  with  green  crayon  and  the 
later  ones  with  green  and  yellow,  or  whatever  would  best  represent 
the  ripe  apple  which  you  have  shown  them.) 

What  helped  the  tree  to  make  its  apples?  The  earth  and  the 
air,  the  sunshine  and  the  rain, — nothing  can  grow  without  them. 

Of  what  use  are  fruits?  They  are  very  good  to  eat  and  very 
wholesome  when  ripe  and  fresh,  or  when  nicely  cooked.  Insects, 
worms  and  birds  make  many  a  delicious  feast  upon  them,  and 
even  the  larger  animals  enjoy  them,  too,  sometimes. 

I  was  crossing  a  field  the  other  day,  with  a  lady,  when  two 
cows  walked  straight  to  her.  *'  Oh,  yes  !  *'  said  the  lady,  **  you 
want  some  apples,  don't  you?  "  Then  she  explained  to  me  that 
she  had  once  given  these  two  cows  some  apples  and  that  they 
had  since  come  to  her  every  time  she  crossed  the  field,  evidently 
expecting  to  be  treated  to  fruit. 


IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


What  do  you  find  inside  the  apple  when  you  eat  it  ?  What  in 
the  pear?  peach?  plum?  grape?  (Let  a^hild  cut  an  apple  in 
halves  vertically,  and  another  child  cut  a  second  apple  horizon- 
tally, and  do  the  same  with  two  pears.)  How  many  seeds  in  the 
apple?  in  the  pear?  Are  the  seeds  o£  any  use?  Look  at  the 
apple  seeds.  What  a  shiny  brown  color  they  are  and  how  small  1 
Yet  each  seed,  if  planted  and  cared  for  rightly,  would  grow  to  be 
a  tree  some  day — a  tree  with  roots  and  trunk  and  branches  and 
leaves,  and  with  spring  blossoms  and  autumn  fruits. 

Are  they  not  useful  and  wonderful,  then,  these  little  brown 
seeds?  Would  you  like  to  have  a  baby  apple  tree  growing  in 
the  kindergarten?  What  shall  we  do,  then?  (It  will  be  well  to 
plant  several,  to  ensure  the  desired  result.) 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLl;. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

How  Plants  Grow,    ----------  Gray 

Flower  and  Fruit       --------         ^  Jane  H.  Newell 

Systematic  Science, 

Edw.  G.  Howe,  in  Kindergarten  Magazine,  May  and  June,  1 891 

Apples, __-       George  W.  Curtis 

The  Apple  ("Winter  Sunshine"),     ------  Burroughs 

Forest  Trees  and  Wild  Apples, 

Thoreau,  in  No.  27  of  Riverside  Literature  Series 

The  Planting  of  the  Apple  Tree, -       Bryant 

The  Fruit  Gift, Whittier 

Cellar  Scene  ("Bitter  Sweet"), J.G.Holland 

To  Autumn,      ----- Keats 

The  Orchard  Lands  of  Long  Ago,     -         -         -         -         James  Whitcomb  Riley 
August  ("There  Were  Four  Apples  on  the  Bough"),        -        -  Swinburne 

August,  -_____-_._    Edwin  Arnold 

Fof  the  Children^ 

The  Nut  Gatherers,  ■) 

„,     __,  V------.    Kindergarten  Gems 

The  Four  Peaches,    \ 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


STORffiS. 

The  Sleeping  Apple. 

[From  the  German.) 

High  up  in  a  tree,  among  the  green  leaves,  hung  a  little  apple 
with  such  rosy  cheeks  it  looked  as  though  it  might  be  sleeping. 
A  little  child  came  near,  and  standing  under  its  branches,  she 
looked  up  and  called  to  the  apple  :  *'  O  apple  !  come  to  me ;  do 
come  down  to  me  !  you  do  not  need  to  sleep  so  long." 

She  called  so  long  and  begged  so  hard,  but  the  apple  did  not 
waken ;  it  did  not  move  in  its  bed,  but  looked  as  though  it  was 
laughing  at  her  in  its  sleep. 

Then  came  the  bright  sun;  high  in  the  heavens  he  shone. 
**0  Sun!  lovely  Sun!"  said  the  child,  *' please  waken  the 
apple  for  me."  The  sun  said  :  *^  O,  yes  ;  with  pleasure  I  will." 
So  he  sent  his  bright  beams  straight  in  the  face  of  the  apple  and 
kissed  it  kindly,  but  the  apple  did  not  move  a  bit. 

Then  there  came  a  bird,  and  perched  upon  a  bough  of  the 
tree  and  sang  a  beautiful  song,  but  even  that  did  not  waken  the 
sleeping  apple.  And  what  comes  now!  "1  know,"  said  the 
child,  ''  he  will  not  kiss  the  apple — and  he  cannot  sing  to  it,  he 
will  try  another  way."  Sure  enough,  the  wind  puffed  out  his 
cheeks  and  blew  and  blew,  and  shook  the  tree,  and  the  little 
apple  was  so  frightened  that  it  awoke  and  jumped  down  from  the 
tree  and  fell  right  in  the  apron  of  the  little  child.  She  was  much 
surprised,  and  so  glad  that  she  said  to  him,  **I  thank  you  very 
much,  Mr.  Wind."  ^ 

Lizzie  Willis. 

Kindergarten  Magazine. 


Wait  and  See, 


A  baby  beech  tree  was  growing  by  the  side  of  its  mother.  It 
said  to  her  one  day,  "  Mother,  I  wish  I  knew  of  what  use  I  can 
be  in  the  world.  There  is  Neighbor  Oak  who  throws  down 
acorns  for  our  master's  pig  to  eat.     Neighbor  Birch  gives  him 


> 


8  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

some  smooth  bark  to  make  into  a  boat.  Neighbor  Spruce  gives 
him  gum  to  pour  over  the  joinings  of  the  boat  to  keep  it  from 
leaking,  and  all  the  others  can  help  in  some  way ;  but  what  can 
I  do?"  *'Wait  and  see,"  said  the  mother  tree.  So  the  little 
tree  waited. 

By  and  by  some  pretty  flowers  shaped  like  this  (showing 
flower  or  a  picture  of  some  flowers  resembling  the  blossoms  of 
the  beech)  came  upon  the  baby  tree.  Then  the  little  tree  was 
happy.  '*  Oh  !  "  it  said,  **  now  I  see  what  good  I  can  do.  I  can 
please  our  master  by  looking  pretty." 

When  the  blossoms  fell  off,  the  poor  little  tree  felt  badly. 
*'0  mother !"  it  said,  **all  my  pretty  flowers  are  gone,  and 
now  I  cannot  even  look  pretty  any  longer.  What  shall  I  do?" 
**Wait  and  see,"  said  the  mother  tree.  The  little  tree  thought 
that  waiting  was  a  hard  thing  to  do,  but  it  said  to  itself, 
**  Mother  knows  best,  so  I'll  do  what  she  says." 

After  a  while  some  small  green  prickly  things  came  where  the 
flowers  had  been.  These  pleased  the  little  tree  as  much  as  the 
flowers  had  done,  and  it  was  content  to  wait,  and  see  if  they 
were  of  any  use  except  to  look  pretty. 

Then  the  little  green  prickly  things  all  turned  brown  and 
the  baby  beech  tree  thought  they  were  not  pretty  any  longer. 
"Oh,  dear!  mother,"  it  said,  **  my  little  green  prickly  things 
have  all  turned  brown,  and  now  I  cannot  even  look  pretty  any 
longer.  What  shall  I  do?"  "Wait  and  see,"  said  the  mother 
tree.     So  the  little  tree  waited. 

The  autumn  had  come,  and  the  weather  was  beginning  to  be 
cold  in  the  part  of  the  country  where  the  baby  beech  tree  lived. 
One  morning  after  a  heavy  frost,  the  baby  beech  tree  found  that 
its  little  brown  prickly  things  had  all  fallen.  "O  mother!" 
it  said,  "there  are  my  little  prickly  things  on  the  ground,  and 
now  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  be  of  any  use  to  anybody."  "Do 
not  be  discouraged  yet ;  wait  and  see,"  said  the  mother  tree. 

Just  then  the  master's  children  came  along.  They  had  bas- 
kets in  their  hands,  for  they  were  going  to  pick  up  nuts  in  the 
woods.  As  they  came  under  the  baby  beech,  the  eldest  boy 
stopped.     "O  children!  See!"   he  cried,  "  here  are  the  beech 


IN  THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


nuts  on  the  ground.  Mother  likes  them  better  than  any  other 
kind  of  nuts.  Let  us  pick  them  all  up  and  take  them  home 
to  her.*' 

As  the  children  went  away  with  the  nuts,  the  mother  tree  said, 
"Now,  my  dear,  you  see  what  good  you  can  do."  *'Yes, 
mother,"  said  the  little  tree.  And  ever  after  it  was  content,  even 
when  it  grew  to  be  a  big  tree — as  big  as  its  mother. 

Josephine  Jarvis. 

Cobden,  IIL 


In  rose  time  or  in  berry  time, 

When  ripe  seeds  fall  or  buds  peep  out, 
When  green  the  grass  or  white  the  rime, 

There's  something  to  be  glad  about. 

Lucy  Larcom. 


BIRDS. 


10 


BIRDS  IN  AUTUMN. 


To  THE  Teacher  : — 

A  closer  study  of  birds  and  bird-life  will  be  advisable  in  the  spring,  when 
we  welcome  the  little  travelers  back.  By  that  time  the  children  will  be  pre- 
pared to  observe  more  in  detail  and  will  have  more  power  of  expression,  as 
well  as  a  greater  familiarity  with  the  activities  of  the  birds  through  the  bird 
games  and  finger  plays. 

If  there  is  a  kindergarten  canary,  it  would  naturally  furnish  the  text  for  this 
talk;  but  the  migration  of  the  birds  and  the  causes  which  lead  to  it  should  be 
prominent. 


THE  TALK. 


(Sing  the  Froebel  finger  play,  *'In  the  branches  of  the  tree." 

Show  a  nest  and  enlarge  somewhat  upon  the  nest  building  and 
the  family  life  which  the  song  has  only  suggested.) 

The  nest  is  the  birdie's  home.  A  small  place  for  a  whole  fam- 
ily to  live  in,  is  it  not?  The  baby  birds  are  very  tiny,  however, 
and  cuddle  close  together  under  the  mother  bird's  wings ;  and 
the  father  bird  generally  sits  on  a^ branch  near  the  nest. 

How  do  birds  get  so  high  in  the  tree?  What  do  they  use  in 
flying?  (Let  the  children  tell  all  they  can  about  birds, — their 
appearance  and  habits  3.nd  songs, — and  also  tell  what  birds  they 
know  by  name.) 

What  do  birds  like  to  eat?  Fruit,  grains  and  other  seeds,  and 
worms  and  insects^  Where  do  they  find  them?  Are  the  worms 
and  insects  out  in  the  winter?  Are  the  fruits  on  the  trees  in 
winter?     What  will  the  poor  birds  do,  then,  when  the  cold  winds 


12 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


blow  and  the  trees  are  bare  and  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow? 
Poor  little  things  !  They  could  not  live  if  they  stayed  here. 
They  would  freeze  or  starve  in  our  cold  land.  So,  some  time  in 
the  autumn,  when  they  find  that  the  air  is  colder  and  food  is 
getting  scarce,  they  decide  to  go  away.  Whole  flocks  of  them 
fly  away  together. 

Where  do  you  think  they  go?  Far  away  to  another  part  of 
our  land  where  it  is  warm,  bright,  summer  weather. 

Is  it  not  wonderful  that  they  know  when  and  where  to  go? — 
wonderful  that  they  can  find  their  way,  sometimes  across  the 
sea  even,  and  always  a  long  distance?  How  glad  they  must  be, 
after  flying  so  far,  to  reach  a  place  where  they  find  fruit  and 
flowers,  and  green  trees  and  warm  sunshine  ! 

Do  all  the  birds  fly  away  to  a  warm  country?  Which  birds 
stay  with  us  all  winter?  Is  it  easy  for  them  to  find  enough  to 
eat?  Would  you  like  to  help  them  sometimes  this  winter?  Even 
if  we  should  only  give  the  birds  the  crumbs  and  bits  from  our 
lunch  every  day,  it  would  be  a  help  to  them.  Perhaps  we  can 
sometimes  make  quite  a  feast  for  our  little  feathered  friends. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 


A  Popular  Handbook  of  the  Ornithology  of  the  United 

States,  Based  on  Nuttall's  Manual,     -        -        -        -  M.  Chamberlain 

Migration  of  Birds  ("Winners  in  Life's  Race"),       -        -        Arabella  Buckley 

A  Bird  Medley  ("Birds  and  Poets"), Burroughs 

November  Birds  ("Sharp  Eyes"), -     W.H.Gibson 

The  Unknown  Land,         --..-__  Margaret  Catty 

To  a  Waterfowl,        -.---__--_       Bryant 

A  September  Robin, D.  Mulock  Craik 

A  Remembrance  of  Autumn,    -        -        -        -        -'       -    Adelaide  A.  Proctor 

The  Flight  of  the  Birds, E.  C.  Stedman 

The  Departure  of  the  Swallow, W.  Howitt 

Bird  Ways, 0.  T.  Miller 

For  the  Qiildfcn 

Coming  and  Going  (Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning  Talks),       S.  E.  Wiltse 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  13 


STORIES. 

Lisa  and  the  Birds* 

(^From  the  NonAJegian.^ 

"  Tell  me,"  said  little  Lisa, 

The  pretty  child  so  sweet, 
"  Where  do  you  tiny  birdies 

Find  all  you  need  to  eat.?  " 
The  little  bird  in  answer 

Sang  cheerily:    "  We  know! 
For  us,  a  dainty  table 

Is  spread  where'er  we  go: 
The  good  brown  earth,  so  kindly, 

Has  scarce  a  single  plant 
Which  will  not  feast  the  birdies 

When  seeds  or  fruits  they  want." 
So  sang  the  birds  to  Lisa; 

But  Lisa,  pitying,  said: 
"  When  little  birds  are  tired 

Where  can  they  find  a  bed?  " 
Then  gaily  chirped  the  birdies, 
"  In  every  bush  or  tree 
Where  we  may  choose  to  build  them 

We  have  our  dwellings  free. 
Leaf  shaded  and  leaf  hidden 

We  safely  go  to  rest; 
Was  never  bed  more  cosy 

Than  is  the  birdie's  nest." 
Still  questioned  little  Lisa: 
"  But  when  you  wish  to  drink. 
What  then?"     The  birdies  warbled: 
"  We  seek  the  brooklet's  brink, 
Or  sip  the  dew  of  morning 

Which  every  leaf  holds  up; 
Or  take  with  joy  the  raindrops 

From  some  bright  flower's  cup. 
And  many  a  spring  and  fountain 

And  many  a  wayside  pool 
Their  sparkling  waters  offer. 

So  fresh  and  pure  and  cool." 


14  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

Then  said  the  loving  Lisa: 
"  When  winter  cold  is  here 
And  everything  is  frozen, 

Oh,  you  v^ill  starve,  I  fear!" 
Again  the  birds  chirped  gaily: 
"  0  little  maiden  kind, 
We  fly  to  lands  of  sunshine 

Where  summer  joys  we  find. 

And  for  the  birds  who  stay  here 

Ev'n  when  cold  winter  comes, 

Some  child  as  sweet  as  you,  dear, 

Will  surely  scatter  crumbs." 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


The  Crane  Express. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  were  six  little  birds,  all  fat,  all  fluffy, 
and  all  friendly ;  and  they  sat  in  a  row  on  the  shore  of  the  Med- 
iterranean Sea. 

Said  one  of  them  to  the  others,  *'Fat  and  fluffy  friends,  let  us 
go  over  to  Africa.  I  have  heard  that  the  worms  there  walk  into 
one's  mouth  as  soon  as  one  opens  it,  and  that  they  have  besides 
a  very  fine  flavor." 

Said  the  others  to  him,  "Fluffy  friend  and  fat,  gladly  would 
we  go  to  Africa,  but  how  can  we  get  there?  Our  wings  are 
short,  and  we  are  small.  We  never  could  fly  so  far,  but  should 
drop  into  the  sea  and  be  drowned." 

*'That  is  true,"  said  the  first.  ''Let  us  see  if  some  one  does 
not  come  along  who  will  carry  us  over."  So  they  all  waited,  sit- 
ting in  a  row  on  the  sand.     Soon  a  great  fish  came  swimming  by. 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD.  IS 

**  Will  you  carry  us  to  Africa,  fish?  "  asked  the  six  little  birds. 

*'l  will  carry  you  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,"  replied  the  fish. 
**  Just  like  this  !  "  and,  folding  his  fins,  he  darted  down  through 
the  water  as  swift  as  an  arrow. 

*'  Dear  !  dear  !  "  said  the  little  birds.  *'  How  lucky  that  we  did 
not  go  with  him.     We  must  still  wait." 

Soon  a  sheep  came  walking  by,  and  as  it  looked  very  good- 
natured,  the  birds  asked  if  it  would  carry  them  over  to  Africa. 

"I  can't,"  said  the  sheep.  "1  never  swim,  and  I  cannot  fly. 
You  must  wait  for  the  cranes." 

**  And  who  are  the  cranes?  "  asked  the  little  birds. 

**They  are  big  birds,"  said  the  sheep,  ''with  long  bills,  longer 
necks,  and  legs  that  are  longer  yet.  Once  every  year  they  come 
from  the  north  and  fly  to  Africa,  and  always  carry  small  birds 
like  you.     I  wonder  you  have  never  seen  them." 

"We  are  very  young."  replied  the  fat,  fluffy,  little  friends. 
''We  have  seen  little  of  the  world,  but  we  thank  you  very  much 
for  telling  us,  and  we  will  wait  for  the  cranes." 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.  In  a  few  minutes  they  heard  a 
rushing  sound  overhead,  and  looking  up  saw  a  flock  of  great 
birds  with  necks  outstretched  and  wings  spread  wide,  flying  low 
over  the  beach. 

"Will  you  carry  us  over  to  Africa?  "  called  the  little  birds  all 
in  a  flutter,  as  the  first  crane  swept  by. 

"  I  am  full !  "  replied  the  crane.  "The  fourth  behind  me  has 
room  for  you,  but  you  must  get  on  quickly  !  " 

As  he  flew  on,  the  six  friends  saw  that  his  back  was  covered 
with  small  birds,  all  huddled  together  and  holding  on  with  beaks 
and  claws. 

The  second  crane  passed,  and  the  third,  both  heavily  laden. 
Then  came  the  fourth.  Hop  !  skip  !  flutter  !  scramble  !  and  the 
six  fat,  fluffy  friends  were  seated  on  his  back,  with  a  dozen  or 
more  little  fellows  about  their  own  size. 

"  Are  you  all  right?  "  said  the  crane.  "  Hold  on  tight !  "  and 
away  he  flew  over  the  wide,  blue  sea. 

Many  other  little  birds  came  flying  to  the  shore,  to  take  pas- 
sage on  the  Crane  express.  And  many  a  back  was  covered  with 
tiny  passengers. 


16  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

*  *  All  aboard  !  all  aboard  ! ' '  cried  the  cranes.  "  Twitter  !  chirp  ! 
twit-twit!"  piped  the  passengers.  And  the  whole  train  swept 
on,  far  away  over  the  sea,  toward  the  white  shore  of  Africa. 

Now,  part  of  this  story  may  be  true,  for  cranes  really  do  carry 
hundreds  of  small  birds  over  the  Mediterranean  Sea  every  year. 
But  whether  the  African  worms  walk  into  birds'  mouths  of 
their  own  accord  or  not,  is  quite  another  matter ;  and  if  I  were 
you,  I  would  not  believe  it  till  I  saw  it. 

Holmes'  Third  Reader, 

University  Publishing  Co. ,  New  York. 


Bird  Thougfhts* 

I  lived  first  in  a  little  house, 

And  lived  there  very  vteW, 
I  thought  the  vj^orld  was  small  and  round, 

And  made  of  pale  blue  shell. 

I  lived  next  in  a  little  nest, 

Nor  needed  any  other, 
I  thought  the  world  was  made  of  straw, 

And  brooded  by  rny  mother. 

One  day  I  fluttered  from  the  nest 

To  see  what  I  could  find. 
I  said:   "  The  world  is  made  of  leaves, 

I  have  been  very  blind." 

At  length  I  flew  beyond  the  tree, 

Quite  fit  for  grown-up  labors. 
— I  don't  know  how  the  world  is  made. 

And  neither  do  my  neighbors. 

Unknown. 


IN    THE   CHILD'S   WORLD. 


17 


WOOD 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

(Having  various  familiar  objects  on  the  table,  let  the  children  tell  of 
what  they  are  made.  Or,  if  the  talks  on  fruits  and  seeds  have  been  given, 
take  the  subject  from  the  point  of  the  tree's  gifts  to  us.) 


THE  TALK. 


Let  US  each  name  some  kind  of  fruit  which  grows  on  trees. 
(Do  not  forget  the  different  kinds  of  nuts,  too.)  Besides  so 
many  kinds  of  fruits,  the  trees  give  us  the  beautiful  leaves  which 
we  have  had  in  kindergarten  this  autumn,  the  sap  of  which  maple 
sugar  is  made  in  the  spring,  and  wood — oh !  so  much  wood ! 
All  the  wood  we  have  to  bum,  and  all  the  wood  which  is  used 
in  building,  or  in  any  way,  comes  from  the  trees. 


18  IN   THE   child's  WORLD. 

(Have  each  child  touch  or  tell  of  something  made  of  wood. 
Try  to  have  this  a  lively  exercise.  Prepare  the  children  who 
you  think  would  not  be  ready  to  mention  anything,  by  giving 
them  wooden  objects  which  they  can  show  and  name.  A  little 
forethought  for  the  backward  children  will  often  enable  them  to 
derive  benefit  which  they  would  otherwise  miss  from  an  exercise.) 

Our  tables  and  chairs  do  not  look  much  like  the  trees  from 
which  they  are  made,  do  they?  Tell  me  how  a  tree  looks. 
What  shape  is  the  trunk — the  tall,  thick  part?  Is  it  rough  or 
smooth  as  you  touch  it? 

Suppose  we  were  going  to  make  a  table  out  of  a  tree,  what 
would  be  the  first  thing  to  do  ? 

(Lead  the  children  to  trace  as  much  of  the  work  of  preparation 
as  possible, — the  selection  of  a  tree  of  the  proper  size  and  hind 
[choose  the  kind  of  which  the  table  is  really  made,]  the  chopping 
down  of  the  tree,  and  the  sawing  and  chopping  off  of  the  branches, 
hauling  the  logs  to  the  river,  floating  them  to  the  sawmill 
where  they  are  sawed  into  boards,  piling  them  in  the  lumber 
yard  to  dry  and  to  wait  until  someone  comes  to  buy  them. 

Sing  '^Zish,  zish,"  and  let  the  children  play  that  they  are 
making  a  table  out  of  some  of  the  boards  whose  history  they  have 
traced.) 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Wood  and  Its  Uses,  -        - -     Encyclopedia 

Pocket  Key  of  Trees  (both  wild  and  cultivated)  of  North- 
ern U.  S.,  east  of  the  Rocky  Mts.,     -        -        -        -         Austin  C.  Apgar 

Browne's  Wooden  Image, Hawthorne 

Gasper  Becerra, Longfellow 

The  Lumbermen, Whitiier 

A  Winter  Evening  Hymn  to  My  Fire, Loweii 

For  the  Qiildren* 

The  Walnut  Tree  that  Wanted  to   Bear  Tulips  (Kindergarten  Stories  and 
Morning  Talks),  5.  E.  Wiltse 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD.  19 


STORffiS. 
The  Logging  Camp. 

When  my  brother  Russell  was  a  little  boy  we  lived  in  Maine. 
There  were  great  woods  near  the  town  where  our  home  was,  and 
the  men  who  lived  in  that  part  of  the  country  used  to  go  into 
these  woods  at  the  beginning  of  winter  and  stay  there  till  spring, 
cutting  down  trees  and  making  them  ready  to  be  sawed  into  boards 
at  the  sawmill. 

As  there  were  several  men  who  went  together  to  the  same 
place,  they  built  themselves  a  house  to  live  in  while  out  in  the 
woods.  This  was  a  square  house  of  one  room,  and  they  called  it 
their  camp.  As  their  business  was  to  make  logs  of  the  trees 
which  they  cut  down,  the  camp  was  called  a  logging  camp. 

One  day  my  uncle  came  to  our  house  and  said  that  he  was 
going  to  one  of  his  logging  camps,  and  would  stay  all  night. 
He  had  his  little  boy  with  him,  and  asked  mother  if  Russell 
might  go,  too.  Mother  was  willing  and  Russell  was  delighted, 
so  off  he  started  with  his  uncle  and  cousin. 

They  had  several  miles  to  go,  but  it  was  good  sleighing,  so  the 
boys  enjoyed  it  very  much.  When  they  reached  the  camp,  late 
in  the  afternoon,  the  men  there  were  delighted  to  see  the  chil- 
dren ;  for,  being  so  far  from  home,  none  of  them  had  seen  a  child 
for  many  weeks. 

The  boys  enjoyed  the  supper  of  hot  biscuit,  baked  pork  and 
beans,  and  coffee,  cooked  by  one  of  the  men. 

After  supper  they  went  to  bed  in  the  bunk,  which  was  made  of 
boards  along  the  side  of  the  room.  The  bunk  was  filled  in  with 
spruce  boughs  or  hay,  and  covered  with  quilts  or  blankets. 

The  boys'  feet  were  turned  toward  the  fire  which  burned  all 
night  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  the  smoke  escaping  through  a 
square  hole  in  the  roof.     Their  feet  being  so  nicely  warmed,  the 


20  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

boys  did  not  suffer  at  all  from  cold ;  they  slept  soundly  and  were 
among  the  first  to  wake  in  the  morning.  It  was  very  interesting 
to  watch  the  cook  get  breakfast  (which  was/ just  the  same  as  the 
supper  of  the  evening  before)  and  after  breakfast  they  went  out 
to  see  the  men  at  work. 

They  were  never  tired  of  watching  the  ''tree-fellers/'  as  the 
men  who  cut  down  the  crees  were  called.  Two  tree-fellers  would 
begin  chopping  at  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  standing  on  opposite  sides 
and  making  the  chips  fly  in  every  direction.  As  the  gap  made 
by  each  chopper  came  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  middle,  the  tree 
would  begin  to  shake,  and,  finally,  down  it  would  come  !  But 
the  men,  knowing  in  what  direction  it  would  fall,  could  jump 
out  of  the  way. 

The  tree  did  not  always  fall  directly  to  the  ground,  for  some- 
times the  men  would  make  it  fall  on  a  smaller  tree  to  prevent 
the  larger  one  from  being  splintered,  as  it  might  be  if  the  force 
of  its  fall  were  unbroken. 

When  this  tree  was  on  the  ground,  other  men  would  come  and 
cut  off  its  branches,  while  the  two  tree-fellers  were  cutting  down 
another  tree. 

By  the  time  the  branches  were  cut  off,  a  second  tree  would  be 
felled  and  the  men  would  pass  on  to  cut  off  its  branches  as  they 
had  done  to  the  other,  while  the  tree-fellers  would  go  back  to 
the  first  tree  and  cut  it  up  into  different  lengths.  These  lengths 
were  called  logs. 

Then  the  teamsters  came  and  loaded  the  logs  on  their  sleds 
and  hauled  them  to  the  river,  down  which  they  floated  to  the 
sawmill  when  the  ice  melted  in  the  spring. 

What  do  you  suppose  drew  the  sleds  ?  ' '  Horses ?  ' '  No.  They 
use  horses  in  some  places ;  but  in  Maine,  at  that  time,  they  used 
oxen  to  haul  the  sleds,  because  oxen  can  move  through  the  deep 
snow  better  than  horses.  The  oxen  were  not  harnessed  like 
horses,  but  each  pair  wore  a  yoke*  to  which  a  ring  was  attached. 
The  pole  went  through  this  ring,  or  a  chain  was  fastened  to  it. 

The  visitors  stayed  till  after  dinner,  and  then  started  for  home 
in  the    sleigh,    so    the   boys    had  another    pleasant   sleighride 


*  The  yoke  can  be  represented  with  sticks  and  riog«. 


WHERE  THE  LOGS  GO. 


21 


22  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

Russell  brought  with  him  one  of  the  camp  biscuits  to  show  to 
mother. 

**See,  mother,"  said  he  eagerly,  "what  nice  biscuits  we  had  at 
the  camp.  I  brought  one  home  for  you  to  taste.  It  is  the  best 
biscuit  I  ever  ate."  Mother  and  grandmother  tasted  it,  and  then 
looked  at  each  other.  The  biscuit  was  yellow  with  saleratus, 
(then  used  instead  of  soda)  and  of  course  tasted  strongly  of  it ; 
but  to  the  little  boy,  with  appetite  sharpened  by  the  fresh  cold 
air,  it  was  delightful. 

Josephine  Jar  vis. 

Cobden,  III.  

The  Honest  Woodman^ 

Out  in  the  green,  silent  woods  and  near  a  rushing  river  that 
foamed  and  sparkled  as  it  hurried  along,  there  lived  a  good  man 
whose  work  was  wood-chopping.  With  his  strong,  sharp  ax 
over  his  shoulder,  he  started  out  one  autumn  day,  and,  selecting 
a  large  oak  tree  near  the  river  side,  was  soon  swinging  his  ax 
right  sturdily  as  he  hewed  away  at  the  tree  trunk. 

The  chips  flew  fast  at  every  stroke,  and  the  sound  of  the  ax 
ringing  against  the  wood  was  echoed  so  clearly  that  you  would 
have  thought  another  wood  chopper  was  at  work  not  far  away. 

By  and  by  the  woodman  thought  he  would  rest  awhile.  He 
leaned  his  ax  against  the  oak  tree  and  turned  to  sit  down,  but 
tripped  against  his  ax;  and  before  he. could  catch  it,  it  had  slid 
down  the  bank  and  into  the  stream  just  where  the  water  was 
very  deep  !  The  poor  woodman  gazed  into  the  stream,  which 
flowed  on  over  his  lost  treasure  as  merrily  as  before,  and  then  he 
spoke  aloud  in  his  distress.  '*0h,  what  shall  I  do?  My  good 
ax  !  The  only  ax  I  had  !  I  can  never  get  it  again.  Even  had 
I  money  to  get  another,  I  should  still  lament  for  this  one, — so 
strong  it  was,  and  so  sharp,  and  the  stout  handle  worn  so  smooth 
to  my  hands." 

The  nymph  or  waterfairy  who  lived  in  this  river  (for  this  all 
happened  in  fairy  days)  heard  the  sad  words  of  the  woodman, 
and,  rising  to  the  surface,  spoke  to  him  in  a  voice  that  was  like 
the  sweet,  tuneful  tinkle  of  dropping  water. 

**  What  is  your  sorrow?  "  said  she  kindly.     The  woodman  told 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  -  23 

her  of  his  misfortune,  -wondering  much  at  the  sudden  appearance 
of  this  lovely  creature. 

*'  Cease  your  sad  words,"  said  the  nymph  in  the  same  tinkling 
accents.  "Far,  far  down  below  the  reach  of  any  mortal  eyes  or 
hands  lies  your  lost  ax;  but  wait  and  hope.  Fairy  eyes  and 
fairy  hands  have  power  even  in  the  watery  depths  of  the  stream." 

"  She  sank: — almost  as  quick  as  thought 

She  rose  again,  and  with  her  brought 

An  ax  of  silver.     The  rich  prize 

She  held  before  the  woodman's  eyes; 

And  smiling  as  in  happy  glee, 
'  Is  this  the  ax  you  lost?  '  said  she. 
'  Oh,  no!  '  said  he  and  shook  his  head. 
'  Well  then,'  the  smiling  naiad  said, 
'  Here  on  the  bank  let  this  remain. 

And  I'll  go  down  and  try  again. 

She  sank;   and,  instantly,  behold! 

Up  came  she,  with  an  ax  of  gold! 

Pure,  solid  gold — the  helve,  the  head — 
'  Is  this  the  ax  you  lost?  '  she  said.  ' 

'  Oh,  no,  no,  no!  '  the  man  replied. 

This  is  not  my  old  ax,'  and  sighed 
'  This  is  of  very  different  ore. 

And  worth,  no  doubt,  a  great  deal  more, 

And  much  more  brightly  does  it  shine, 

But  'tis  not  mine — no,  'tis  not  mine." 

** Indeed  !"  said  the  fairy — ''Then  this  golden  ax  may  lie  on 
the  bank  beside  the  silver  one,  while  I  seek  again  for  yours." 
The  blue  waters  closed  yet  once  more  over  the  fairy.  The  wood- 
man looked  at  the  gold  ax  and  at  the  silver  ax,  glittering  in  the 
grass. 

''They  are  beautiful,"  said  he,  "  and  far  costlier  than  my  ax, 
which,  though  as  good  a  one  as  ever  hewed  a  tree,  is  naught  but 
hardy  steel ;  nevertheless  I  will  not  lay  claim  to  that  which  is  not 
mine,  nor  will  I  say  anything  but  the  truth." 

By  this  time  the  water-nymph  had  again  appeared  above  the 
shining  waves  and  was  holding  another  ax  high  in  the  air.  The 
woodman  reached  forward  with  a  shout  of  joy.  "  That  is  mine  !  " 
he  cried.     "  That  is  surely  my  own  old  ax." 


24  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

'*Yes,"  said  the  fairy  as  she  put  it  into  his  hands.  **This  is 
your  ax,  but  it  is  only  a  plain  steel  one.  Did  you  not  like  the 
silver  ax  and  the  gold  ax?"  * 'Indeed  I  did,"  answered  the 
woodman;  **but  the  silver  ax  was  not  mine  and  the  gold  ax  was 
not  mine.  Not  for  them  or  for  any  other  treasure  will  I  say 
what  is  not  true."  *' Right,  honest  woodman,"  said  the  fairy 
with  a  radiant  smile  of  approval.  "  Truth  is  better  than  silver  or 
gold.  Truth  can  make  you  strong-hearted  and  happy  though  you 
lose  your  all.  And  now,  farewell,"  she  continued  ;  "  but  take  as 
a  gift  from  me  the  ax  of  silver  and  the  ax  of  gold." 

So  saying,  she  waved  her  white  hand  and  disappeared.  The 
astonished  woodman  gazed  at  the  river,  but  it  only  sparkled  and 
rippled  on  quite  in  its  usual  fashion ;  and  at  last  with  his  heart 
full  of  gratitude  to  the  fairy  for  her  great  kindness,  the  honest 
woodman  gathered  up  the  three  gleaming  axes  and  hastened  home 
to  tell  of  his  wonderful  adventure. 

Retold  by  Emilie  Poulsson. 


THE  CARPENTER, 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

For  this  talk  the  teacher  will  find  pieces  of  wood  (rough  and  smooth,  short 
and  long,  thick  and  thin)  very  useful  in  demonstrating  the  changes  which  the 
carpenter  makes  in  his  material.  The  carpenter's  tools,  too,  should  be  shown 
and  used -when  possible.  A  visit  to  a  carpenter's  shop  is  an  excellent  prepara- 
tion for  the  teacher.  If  she  can  take  the  children  with  her  or  have  a  carpen- 
ter visit  the  kindergarten  and  show  how  he  uses  his  tools,  so  much  the  better. 


THE  TALK. 


(Question  the  children  witn  regard  to  the  origin  and  uses  of 
wood  as  brought  out  in  the  previous  talk.  Let  them  mention 
again  things  that  are  made  of  wood, — in  the  schoolroom,  at  home, 
or  in  the  street.) 

Who  cuts  down  the  trees?  Who  makes  barrels,  pails,  etc., 
out  of  wood?  Who  builds  houses?  What  else  does  the  carpenter 
build?  Perhaps  there  are  some  children  here  whose  fathers  are 
carpenters.     Let  us  see  how  many. 

Suppose  each  one  of  the  carpenter's  children  tells  us  of  some 
tool  his  father  uses  in  his  work.  Do  the  other  children  know  of 
any  more  tools  which  the  carpenter  uses?  (Let  the  children 
examine  the  tools  provided,  and  see  how  many  they  know  the 
name  and  use  of.  Show  pieces  of  wood  and  ask  for  the  tool  by 
which  the  rough  can  be  made  smooth,  the  long  short,  holes  bored, 
pieces  fastened  together,  etc.,  etc.,  bringing  out  mention  of  each 
tool  in  this  way.) 


V/ 


26 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


A  man  has  to  learn  how  to  use  all  these  tools  and  to  do  all 
these  things  and  many  more  before  he  can  be  a  good  carpenter. 
Can  you  find  places  in  the  room  where  the  plane  must  have  been 

used?  the  hammer?  the  saw? 
Who  has  been  at  work  here, 
then,  to  make  our  pleasant, 
comfortable  room? 

And  who  made  the  wood 
ready  for  the  carpenter? 
The  wood-chopper  in  the  for- 
est, and  the  man  at  the  saw- 
mill. Besides  all  these  men, 
the  mason  and  the  painter 
and  the  glazier  helped  in 
building  the  house.  The 
mason  made  the  cellar  and 
the  walls,  the  painter  painted 
the  house,  and  the  glazier 
put  the  glass  in  the  Trin- 
dows.  Think  how  many 
people  we  have  to  thank  for 
our  houses  !  Should  we  be 
very  comfortable  if  we  had 
no  houses  to  live  in?  Now 
suppose  you  had  a  good 
house,  nicely  built, — would 
you  like  to  live  there  alone,  without  mamma,  and  papa,  and 
brothers  and  sisters?  No,  I  am  sure  you  would  not.  It  is 
not  enough  to  have  a  house, — the  house  needs  to  have  a  family 
in  it — father,  mother,  children — those  who  belong  to  each  other. 
Then  a  house,  or  even  a  part  of  a  house,  becomes  a  home. 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  27 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Froebel's  Explanation  of 

The  Carpenter,^ 

The  Bridge,        I  Mother's  Songs,  Games  and  Stories 

The  Joiner,        J 

Adam  Bede, George  Eliot 

Annals  of  a  Quiet  Neighborhood, George  MacDonald 

Whittling, Pierpont 

The  Ship  Builders, Whittier 

The  Building  of  the  Ship, Longfellow 

For  the  Childreiu 

The  Carpenter  ("  Kindergarten  Stories  and 

Morning  Talks"), S.  E.  Wiltse 

Gutta  Percha  Willie, George  MacDonald 


STORIES. 
Little  Deeds  of  Kindness. 

A  bright  red  wagon  with  four  wheels,  and  a  long  handle  to  pull 
it  by,  is  a  delightful  plaything,  and  little  Howard,  who  had  found 
just  such  a  wagon  at  his  bedside  when  he  awoke  one  morning, 
could  scarcely  wait  for  the  time  to  come  when  he  could  play  with 
it.  After  breakfast  he  hurried  out  as  soon  as  he  could.  At  first 
it  was  fun  enough  just  to  run  up  and  down  on  the  broad  side- 
walk and  hear  the  wheels  rattle  on  the  bricks.  It  was  interesting 
to  practice  turning,  too ;  for  the  front  wheels  turned  under  the 
body  of  the  wagon,  just  as  those  of  a  larger  wagon  do. 

By  and  by  his  Aunt  Kate  came  down  the  street,  and  Howard 
ran  joyfully  to  meet  her  and  to  show  her  his  new  wagon. 

**See  the  tires  on  the  wheels,  Auntie,  how  bright  they  are! 
And  the  front  wheels  turn,  and  the  board  at  the  back  will  come 
out,  too!" 

Aunt  Kate  admired  everything,  and,  seeing  the  gilt  letters  on 


28  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

the  side  o£  the  wagon,  asked,  *  *  Is  *  Star '  the  name  of  this 
wonderful  wagon?  " 

"  Yes,''  said  Howard,  **this  is  the  *  Star  Express.'  " 

**  Then  I  will  send  this  book  to  your  mamma  by  the  Star 
Express,  for  my  arms  are  tired,"  said  Aunt  Kate.  So  she  put 
the  big  book  into  the  cart  and  Howard  took  it  to  his  mamma. 

After  a  while,  Howard  played  that  h-e  was  a  milkman.  He 
went  along  the  walk,  stopping  in  front  of  every  house  as  if  to 
leave  the  milk.  By  and  by  he  came  to  the  corner,  and  then 
turned  to  go  back. 

But  something  was  the  matter  with  the  little  wagon.  Howard 
looked  around  and  saw  that  a  wheel  had  come  off.  He  picked  it 
up  and  then  stood  looking  at  the  wagon  in  great  distress.  He 
felt  as  if  he  should  cry.  He  had  thought  he  should  have  such  fun 
all  day,  and  now  his  wagon  was  broken. 

** Perhaps  papa  can  mend  it,"  thought  Howard;  *'but  even 
if  he  can,  he  will  not  be  at  home  until  to-night ;  papa  is  so  busy, 
too,  that  he  may  not  get  time  to  mend  it  for  two  or  three  days." 

Poor  Howard  felt  very  unhappy  as  these  thoughts  passed 
through  his  mind.  Just  then  someone  spoke  to  him.  A  kind 
voice  said :   '*Let  me  take  the  wheel,  little  boy." 

A  man  whose  face  was  as  kind  as  the  voice  stood  near.  He 
was  lifting  down  a  wooden  box  which  he  had  been  carrying  on  his 
shoulders. 

Wondering  what  was  going  to  happen,  and  with  a  sudden  feel- 
ing of  hope,  Howard  handed  him  the  wheel.  The  man  took 
some  carpenter's  tools  from  his  box  and  went  to  work.  Howard 
watched  him  with  great  interest.  He  saw  that  the  man  was  a 
carpenter  and  knew  exactly  what  to  do. 

In  a  very  little  time  the  wheel  was  on,  and  the  gay  little  wagon 
was  as  good  as  ever.  • 

**  There  !  "  said  the  carpenter,  ''  that  is  strong  now.  I  do  not 
think  it  will  come  off  again." 

'*  Oh,  thank  you  !  Thank  you  !  "  said  Howard ;  **  I  am  so  glad 
it  is  mended.     It  is  a  new  wagon  and  I  have  such  fun  with  it." 

**  Good-by,"  said  the  carpenter,  as  he  took  up  his  box  and  put 
it  on  his  shoulder. 


THE  CARPENTER. 


20  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

*'  Oh  I  '*  said  Howard,  *'  I  wish  you  would  let  me  take  your  box 
of  tools  for  you.     This  is  the  Star  Express." 

"  That  would  be  a  good  plan,"  said  the  carpenter.  **  How  far 
does  this  express  run?  " 

**  As  far  as  the  corner,"  answered  Howard. 

The  carpenter  put  his  box  of  tools  into  the  wagon,  and  away 
went  the  Star  Express  rattling  down  the  street. 

After  this  Howard  used  to  watch  for  his  carpenter,  as  he  called 
him,  and  run  to  meet  him  whenever  he  saw  him  in  the  distance  ; 
and  if,  as  sometimes  happened,  the  carpenter  had  his  box  of 
tools  or  a  package  of  nails  to  carry,  Howard  always  put  it  into 
the  wagon  and  took  it  as  far  as  he  could. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


An  Old-Fashioncd  Rhyme. 

This  is  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 

This  is  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 
Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 

This  is  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knows, 
Wielded  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 
Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest.    ' 

This  is  the  Log — to  the  river's  side 

Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knows, 

Wielded  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 

Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 

This  is  the  River  whose  flowing  tide 
Carried  the  Log  that  was  rolled  to  its  side, — 
Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knows^ 
Wielded  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 
Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 

This  is  the  Wheel  that  went  whirring  round, 
Turned  by  the  River  whose  flowing  tide 
Carried  the  Log  that  was  rolled  to  its  side, — 
Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knowS; 
Wielded  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 
Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  31 


These  are  the  Saws  which,  with  buzzing  sound, 
Were  moved  by  the  Wheel  that  went  whirring  round. 
Turned  by  the  River  whose  flowing  tide 
Carried  the  Log  that  was  rolled  to  its  side, — 
Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knpws, 
Wielded  the  Ax  whose  heavy  blows 
Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 


These  are  the  Boards,  so  straight  and  long. 
Cut  by  the  Saws  which,  with  buzzing  sound, 
Were  moved  by  the  Wheel  that  went  whirring  round. 
Turned  by  the  River  whose  flowing  tide 
Carried  the  Log  that  was  rolled  to  its  side, — 
Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knows, 
Wielded  the  Ax  whose  heavy  blows 
Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 


This  is  the  Carpenter,  skillful  and  strong. 
Who  planed  all  the  Boards  so  straight  and  long, 
Cut  by  the  Saws  which,  with  buzzing  sound. 
Were  moved  by  the  Wheel  that  went  whirring  round, 
Turned  by  the  River  whose  flowing  tide 
Carried  the  Log  that  was  rolled  to  its  side, — 
Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knows. 
Wielded  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 
Cut  down  the  Tree  of  the  forest. 


This  is  the  House  with  its  windows  and  doors 
With  timbers  and  rafters  and  roofs  and  floors. 
Which  was  built  by  the  Carpenter  skillful  and  strong 
Who  planed  all  the  Boards  so  straight  and  long. 
Cut  by  the  Saws  which,  with  buzzing  sound, 
Were  moved  by  the  Wheel  that  went  whirring  round, 
Turned  by  the  River  whose  flowing  tide 
Carried  the  Log  that  was  rolled  to  its  side, — 
Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knows, 
Wielded  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 
Cut  down  the  tree  of  the  forest. 


32  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


This  is  the  family — All  are  here — 

Father,  and  mother  and  children  dear, 

Who  live  in  the  House  with  windows  and  doors. 

With  timbers  and  rafters  and  roofs  and  floors, 

Which  was  built  by  the  Carpenter,  skillful  and  strong. 

Who  planed  all  the  Boards  so  straight  and  long, 

Cut  by  the  Saws  which,  with  buzzing  sound. 

Were  moved  by  the  Wheel  that  went  whirring  round. 

Turned  by  the  River  whose  flowing  tide 

Carried  the  Log  that  was  rolled  to  its  side, — 

Rolled  by  the  Woodman,  who,  every  one  knows. 

Wielded  the  Ax  whose  steady  blows 

Cut  down  the  tree  of  the  forest. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


THE  CLOCK, 


To  THE  Teacher; 


At  the  beginning  of  the  year,  when  there  is  danger  that  the  children  may  be 
homesick,  it  is  better  to  talk  of  something  which  will  take  their  thoughts  away 
from  home  and  mother,  and  also  away  from  the  strangeness  of  their  kinder- 
garten surroundings.  Later,  however,  the  kindergarten  room  should  be  con- 
sciously observed,  and  its  useful  and  pretty  things  rejoiced  in.  When  the 
children  are  ready  for  this,  the  subject  of  the  clock  is  to  be  introduced,  since 
by  it  the  important  matter  of  punctuality  can  be  brought  forward,  and  this 
should  be  done  as  soon  as  other  considerations  will  allow. 


THE  TALK. 


(Sing  one  of  the  clock  songs  at  the  end  of  the  morning  exer- 
cises and  so  lead  directly  to  the  subject.) 

Where  is  the  clock?  Do  you  hear  it  ticking?  Let  us  listen. 
We  must  be  very  quiet  or  we  shall  not  hear  it.     What  does  it  say? 

All  the  whole  day,  while  we  are  singing  and  playing  and  work- 
ing, and  all  the  whole  night,  while  we  are  sleeping,  the  clock 
keeps  on  saying,  '*tic-tac,  tic-tac." 

(Ask  the  children  to  look  at  the  clock,  and  lead  them  to  describe 
the  face,  hands,  pendulum  and  case.  The  mechanism  is  too 
complex  to  be  explained  to  little  children,  although  they  will  be 
interested  and  impressed  with  a  sight  of  the  many  little  wheels 
in  motion.) 

Did  you  ever  see  papa  or  mamma  wind  the  clock?  Why 
must  it  be  wound?  Can  you  show  me  how  the  wheels  move? 
How  does  the  pendulum  swing?     Why  do  we  have  clocks? 

(The  children  can  give  instances  of  the  clock's  usefulness.) 


34 


IN  THE  CHILD*^S  WORLD. 


The  clock  tells  when  it  is  time  for  mamma  to  get  up  and  get  break- 
fast, and  for  papa  to  go  tc  his  work ;  and  it  tells  when  the  children 
should  go  to  kindergarten,  and  when  they  should  go  home. 

All  the  children  who  came  to  kinder- 
garten in  good  time  this  morning  may  stand. 
Shall  I  tell  you  how  you  can  all  be  in  time 
to-morrow?  Ask  your  mamma  to  please 
look  at  the  clock  and  to  let  you  start  as  soon 
as  the  clock  points  both  hands  out  this 
way.  (Show  a  quarter  before  nine  by  using 
a  card  clock-face  or  old  clock,  or  blackboard 
picture .)  Perhaps  some  of  the  big  boys  and 
girls  will  notice  for  themselves  when  the 
clock  at  home  says  **time  to  go  to  kinder- 
garten." 

Where  have  you  seen  clocks  besides  at 
home  and  at  kindergarten?  On  churches, 
railroad  stations,  etc.,  etc.  Have  you  seen 
anything  else  which  shows  the  time  ? 

Long  ago  people  had  no  clocks  or 
watches.  What  do  you  suppose  they  did 
then?  They  used  to  tell  the  time  by  notic- 
ing the  sunlight  and  the  shadows.  (De- 
scribe the  sundial  and  show  the  picture.) 

The  sundial  was  of  no  use  at  night,  how- 
ever, nor  on  stormy  and  cloudy  days  when 
the  sun  was  hidden;  so  people  found  other  ways  of  measuring 
time.  (Show  an  hourglass.)  Sometimes  water  was  used  instead 
of  sand  (in  an  instrument  called  the  clepsydra)  and  time  was 
measured  by  the  falling  of  drops  of  water. 

None  of  these  ways  were  very  convenient,  however,  and  men 
were  constantly  trying  to  make  something  better  for  telling  the 
time,  but  they  had  to  think  and  study  and  work  and  try  very 
hard,  over  and  over  again,  before  they  succeeded  in  making  clocks 
and  watches  as  good  and  useful  and  wonderful  as  these  which  we 
have  now. 


THE  SUNDIAL. 


35 


36  IN    THE   child's   WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

History  of  the  Clock,        -'-        -        -        -        -        -        -     Encyclopaedia 

Froebel's  Explanation  of  the  Clock  or  Tic-tac  Play, 

Mother's  Songs,  Games  and  Stories 
The  Clock  on  the  Stairs,  -        -        -        -        -        -         --  Longfellow 

A  Petiton  to  Time,  -..- Barry  Cornwall 

Time's  Cure  (Anonymous),      -        .        -  Dana'' s  Household  Book  of  Poetry 

Active  and  Passive,  -__-_-_-  Margaret  Gatty 

For  the  Children. 

Frances  Keeps  her  Promise,     -------        Jane  Taylor 

Cinderella  at  the  Ball. 


STORES. 

What  the  Clock  Told  Dolly. 

Dolly  Dimple  sat  on  a  rug  by  the  hall  fire,  thinking.  I  doubt 
■whether  you  have  ever  seen  a  great  old-fashioned  hall  like  the  one 
where  Dolly  was  sitting,  for  such  halls  are  not  built  nowadays. 
This  one  was  part  of  a  great,  rambling  house  which  was  more 
than  a  hundred  years  old.  Dolly  Dimple  was  born  there  and 
Dolly  Dimple's  mother  and  grandmother  had  lived  in  it  a  long 
time.  They  had  left  their  home  across  the  water  and  come  to 
this  one  when  Dolly's  mother  was  a  tiny  child.  Dolly  was  certain 
there  had  never  been  another  such  house,  and  this  hall  was  her 
special  delight.  It  was  square,  and  had  a  shining  oak  floor,  half 
covered  with  furry  rugs.  The  walls  were  made  of  the  same  dark 
wood,  and  at  the  end  was  the  cherry  open  fireplace  where  mossy 
logs  roared  and  crackled  all  winter  long,  lighting  up  the  dark 
comers  and  telling  wonderful  stories  of  the  summer-time  and^ 
their  lives  in  the  forest.     Near  by  was  a  broad  staircase,  on  the 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  37 

first  landing  of  which  stood  a  clock,  and  it  was  about  this  clock 
that  Dolly  Dimple  was  thinking  so  deeply  that  wonderful  night. 

It  was  a  very  tall  clock, — taller  than  Dolly's  papa, — and  it  had 
a  long  glass  door  through  which  she  could  see  the  weights  and 
the  pendulum  which  never  moved  now.  Above  this  was  the 
round,  good-natured  face  which  Dolly  was  morally  certain  looked 
very  different  at  different  times ;  when  she  was  good  it  smiled 
sweetly  upon  her,  but  when  she  was  cross — and  I  am  sorry  to  say 
Dolly  was  cross  sometimes — it  looked  at  he^r  so  sorrowfully  !  It 
could  sympathize,  too  ;  for  Dolly  said  that  when  she  was  in  trouble 
she  had  seen  the  tears  streaming  down  the  old  clock's  face  ;  but 
since  she  was  looking  through  a  mist  of  tears  herself  at  such  times 
I  should  not  like  to  say  that  this  was  really  true. 

But  the  strangest  thing  of  all  about  this  clock  was  that  it  would 
strike.  Now  maybe  all  you  wise  little  ones  do  not  think  it  a  very 
strange  thing  for  a  clock  to  strike  ;  but  when  I  tell  you  that  this 
clock  did  so  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  its  wheels  had  not  moved  for 
many  years,  that  will  surely  make  you  wonder  ! 

And  then  it  would  strike  at  the  strangest  times  !  No  one  ever 
knew  when  it  was  going  off,  and  it  had  been  known  to  strike  as 
many  as  seventeen !  Dolly  couldn't  understand  it  at  all,  and  as 
no  one  explained  it  to  her,  it  had  puzzled  her  a  great  deal.  That 
night  she  was  more  mystified  than  ever ;  for  at  daybreak  the 
clock  had  struck  five,  and  how  could  the  clock  have  known 
that  it  was  her  fifth  birthday? 

She  lay  curled  up  on  the  soft  rug,  thinking  about  it,  until  she 
began  to  grow  drowsy.  The  crackling  of  the  wood  sounded 
farther  and  farther  away ;  the  shrill  chirp  of  the  cricket  which 
lived  at  the  back  of  the  fireplace  grew  fainter  and  fainter. 

Suddenly  a  voice — a  very  cracked  voice — broke  the  silence. 
**  Dolly  !     Dolly  Dimple  !  "  it  said. 

Dolly  jumped  up  so  hastily  that  the  startled  cricket  sprang 
backward  nearly  into  the  fire.  Where  had  the  voice  come  from? 
Dolly  peeped  carefully  about  the  hall  until  her  eyes  rested  upon 
the  old  clock,  when  she  was  surprised  to  see  that  a  new  look  had 
crept  over  its  face, — a  look  which  told  Dolly  that  it  was  the  clock 
that  had  spoken.  And,  sure  enough !  as  she  was  gazing  at  it,  it 
spoke  again. 


38  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

**  Would  you  like  to  hear  a  story,  Dolly?  "  it  asked. 

Now  there  was  nothing  Dolly  liked  better  than  a  story ;  and 
forgetting  her  surprise,  in  her  eagerness  to  hear  what  the  clock 
had  to  say,  she  answered  quickly  :  **  Yes  indeed,  clock  ;  can  you 
tell  me  one?  " 

*'That  I  can,"  said  the  clock.  '*  I'll  tell  you  the  story  of  my 
life." 

Dolly  felt  sure  that  now  the  mystery  was  to  be  solved,  and 
curled  herself  up  more  comfortably  to  listen;  the  busy  cricket 
straightened  her  cap  and  folded  her  hands  to  show  her  deep 
attention;  the  fire  gave  out  a  warmer  glow,  and  the  clock 
began : — 

*' Perhaps,  Dolly  Dimple,  you  will  understand  better  what  a 
wonder  I  am  if  I  tell  you  that  once  upon  a  time  there  wasn't  a 
clock  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  !  " 

**  Why-ee  !  What  a  sto — ,"  began  the  cricket,  and  then  stopped ; 
but  it  was  quite  plain  that  she  did  not  believe  a  word  of  it. 

**No  clocks!"  cried  Dolly,  ''why,  how  did  little  girls  know 
when  it  was  school-time,  or  dinner-time,  or — or — anything?  " 

''They  had  other  ways  of  telling  time,"  answered  the  clock; 
"one  of  the  first  things  by  which  they  measured  it  was  a  stick, — 
a  straight  stick !" 

' '  A  stick  ! ' '  exclaimed  Dolly. 

"A  straight  stick!"  murmured  the  cricket;  **1  knew  thsit 
clock  was  crazy." 

"  /  was  brought  up  to  think  that  it  was  impolite  to  interrupt," 
said  the  clock. 

"Of  course  it  is,"  said  Dolly,  "we  will  not  breathe  another 
word,  will  we,  cricket?  " 

"But  a  stick  !  "  groaned  the  cricket,  shaking  her  head. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  clock,  "try  it  for  yourself  !  Go  out  of  doors 
the  next  sunny  morning  and  plant  a  little  stick  in  the  ground. 
If  it  is  early,  the  shadow  will  be  a  great  deal  longer  than  the  stick 
itself,  and  will  look  as  if  hiding  from  the  sun ;  as  noon  draws  near, 
you  will  find  the  shadow  creeping  up  and  up,  until  just  at  noon, 
the  stick  seems  to  swallow  it ;  and  then,  as  the  sun  moves  on 
toward  the  west,  the  shadow  peeps  out  and  creeps  off  on  the  other 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  39 

side  of  the  stick  until  night,  when  shadow  and  stick  are  both 
swallowed  in  darkness. 

**  Now  don't  you  see  how  you  could  tell  time  by  the  stick  and 
its  shadow?"  And  it  was  this  which  made  somebody  think  of  a 
sundial." 

**A  sundial,"  broke  in  the  cricket,  who  could  not  keep  still; 

**  What  is  that?" 

**  It  looks  like  a  doll's  table  with  a  little  piece  of  metal  standing 
up  in  the  center ;  and  on  the  table  top  is  marked  the  length  of 
the  shadow  which  this  piece  of  metal  casts  at  different  hours  of 
the  day." 

**  Was  that  the  only  clock  they  had?  "  asked  Dolly. 

*'  If  your  pussy  had  lived  in  those  days  they  would  have  used 
her  for  a  timepiece,"  said  the  clock. 

The  cricket  evidently  thought  this  too  foolish  a  story  to  be 
noticed  at  all,  and  even  Dolly  looked  shocked ;  but  the  clock 
knew  what  it  was  talking  about  and  went  right  on. 

*'  If  you  look  at  Kitty's  eyes  when  she  first  wakes  in  the  morn- 
ing, you  will  find  that  the  dark  place  in  the  middle  of  the  eye  is 
Very  big  and  round ;  but  soon  you  will  notice  that  it  is  growing 
narrow,  until  by  noon  it  is  as  fine  as  a  hair ;  and  then  it  will 
slowly  grow  larger  again,  until,  when  night  comes,  it  will  be  as 
big  and  round  as  it  was  in  the  morning." 

*' What  a  bother  it  must  have  been  to  tell  time  in  these  ways  ! " 
said  Dolly. 

**  Yes,  I  think  so  myself,"  replied  the  clock,  '*and  people  be- 
gan to  think  that  they  ought  to  have  something  better  to  depend 
upon.  So  about  five  hundred  years  ago,  some  one  invented  a 
clock, — not  a  big,  handsome  one  like  myself,  but  a  very  plain 
affair  that  had  no  pendulum  and  could  not  strike.'' 

*'  Poor  thing  !  "  sighed  Dolly. 

**  Better  not  strike  at  all  than  strike  as  some  clocks  do," 
observed  the  cricket  rather  spitefully. 

''But  it  was  a  clock,  and  considered  a  very  wonderful  thing  in 
those  days,"  continued  the  clock;  **  and  people  must  have  been 
pretty  well  satisfied,  for  they  did  not  add  a  pendulum  for  several 
hundred  years." 


40  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

"  Are  you  very  old?  "  asked  Dolly. 

**  Yes,  I  am  very,  very  old.  It  must  be  over  a  hundred  years 
since  my  hands  began  to  move. — Ah  !  that  -was  a  proud  day  for 
my  maker  !  Every  tiny,  shining  wheel  was  as  perfect  as  perfect 
could  be,  and  my  case  was  a  beautiful  sight.  On  the  day  that  I 
was  finished  the  little  clockmaker  was  the  happiest  man  alive. 
He  examined  me  in  every  part  with  the  greatest  care,  and  my 
perfection  delighted  him.  Then  he  took  a  big  key,  and  wound 
me  up,  touched  my  pendulum,  and  with  a  *tick-t3.ck,  tick-tack,' 
I  started  out  on  my  life-work.  The  little  clockmaker  did  not 
long  have  me  to  admire,  however,  for  very  soon  an  old  lady 
bought  me,  and  I  was  carried  away  across  the  blue  rolling  water 
and  placed  in  this  hall.  I  am  worn-out  and  useless  now,  but  then 
I  was  of  the  greatest  importance.  Nothing  was  done  without 
consulting  me.  Ever  and  ever  so  many  bright-eyed  children  have 
raced  up  and  down  the  stairs  and  curled  up  by  the  fire  just  as  you 
are  doing.  I  have  loved  them  all  and  tried  to  show  them  that  it 
was  only  by  keeping  our  hands  busy  working  for  others,  and  by 
doing  right,  that  we  could  be  happy  and  make  our  friends  love 
us.  They  may  have  thought  that  all  I  said  was  *tick-tack,  tick- 
tack,'  but  really  I  have  always  said  as  plainly  as  plainly  could 
be,— *Do  right,  do  right.'  " 

**Dear  old  clock!"  murmured  Dolly;  and  even  the  cricket 
turned  her  head  and  wiped  away  a  tear. 

"  Before  I  stop,"  said  the  clock,  "1  must  speak  of  one  thing  that 
others  besides  yourselves  have  noticed  ;"  and  the  clock  glanced  at 
the  cricket,  who  looked  as  if  she  wanted  to  sink  through  the  floor. 

**  You  must  know  that  a  great  while  ago  my  hands  refused,  to 
move  another  minute.  It  was  a  sorry  day  for  me,  and  sometimes 
my  feelings  overcome  me  even  now  when  I  think  of  the  past. 
At  such  times  it  is  a  great  relief  for  me  to  strike." 

**  You  dear  old  clock,"  cried  Dolly  ;  **  You  shall  strike  as  often 
as  you  please,  and  if  the  cricket  ever  dares — " 

*'  Dolly  !  Dolly  Dimple  !  "  Harry  was  calling. 

Dolly  sat  up  and  rubbed  her  eyes.  **  What  is  the  matter?  "  she 
asked. 

'^That's  what  I'd  like  to  know  !  Why,  the  very  idea  of  a  little 
girl  with  a  birthday  sleeping  as  if  it  were  any  other  day  !" 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  41 

* '  Sleeping  !  I  haven't  slept  a  wink  !  Why,  the  clock  haS  been 
talking,  and  the  cricket,  and, — '' 

*' Very  likely  !  As  if  I'd  believe  that  when  I've  knocked  over 
the  poker  and  the  shovel  and  the  tongs,  and  you  never  so  much 
as  winked." 

Dolly  looked  up  at  the  old  clock,  but  never  a  word  did  it  say. 
The  broad,  good-natured  face  beamed  down  upon  her  the  same  as 
ever,  but  she  fancied  it  wore  a  wise  expression  that  said  as  plainly 
as  so  many  words:  *'Keep  quiet;  boys  are  not  half  so  wise  as 
they  think  they  are.  Don't  mind  him,  but  remember  all  I  have 
told  you,  and  try  to  learn  something  every  day  from  everybody. 
Be  glad  that  you  have  clocks  to  tell  you  the  time  and  to  remind 
you  to  keep  your  hands  busy  and  to  *do  right,  do  right'." 

**  Dolly  !  Dolly  !  Why  do  you  keep  staring  at  that  old  clock? 
I  declare  you  are  half  asleep  yet ! "    • 

Dolly  rubbed  her  eyes  and  stared  at  her  laughing  brother,  and 
then  again  at  the  now  silent  clock.  She  was  glad  that  she  had 
been  warned  to  keep  quiet,  for  she  did  not  feel  like  telling  the 
whole  story  then ;  but  when  she  grew  up  she  used  to  tell  little 
children  **  What  the  Clock  told  Dolly." 

Minnie  G.  Clark. 


The  Discontented  Pendulum* 

An  old  clock  that  had  stood  for  fifty  years  in  a  farmer's  kitchen 
without  giving  its  owner  any  cause  of  complaint,  early  one  sum- 
mer's morning,  before  the  family  was  stirring,  suddenly  stopped. 
Upon  this,  the  dial  plate  (if  we  may  credit  the  fable)  changed 
countenance  with  alarm ;  the  hands  made  a  vain  effort  to  continue 
their  course  ;  the  wheels  remained  motionless  with  surprise ;  the 
weights  hung  speechless ;  each  member  felt  disposed  to  lay  the 
blame  on  the  others.  At  length  the  dial  instituted  an  inquiry  as 
to  the  cause  of  the  stagnation,  when  hands,  wheels,  weights,  with 
one  voice,  protested  their  innocence. 

But  now  a  faint  tick  was  heard  below  from  the  pendulum, 
who  thus  spoke:  **I  confess  myself  to  be  the  sole  cause  of  the 


42  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

present  stoppage,  and  I  am  willing,  for  the  general  satisfaction, 
to  assign  my  reasons.  The  truth  is,  that  I  am  tired  of  ticking." 
Upon  hearing  this,  the  old  clock  became  so  enraged  that  it  was 
on  the  very  point  of  striking. 

**Lazy  wire  !*'  exclaimed  the  dial  plate,  holding  up  its  hands. 

**  Very  good  !  "  replied  the  pendulum ;  "it  is  vastly  easy  for  you. 
Mistress  Dial,  who  have  always,  as  everybody  knows,  set  yourself 
up  above  me — it  is  vastly  easy  for  you,  I  say,  to  accuse  other 
people  of  laziness  !  You,  who  have  had  nothing  to  do  all  the  days 
of  your  life  but  to  stare  people  in  the  face,  and  to  amuse  yourself 
with  watching  all  that  goes  on  in  the  kitchen  !  Think,  I  beseech 
you,  how  would  you  like  to  be  shut  up  for  life  in  this  dark  closet, 
and  to  wag  backwards  and  forwards  year  after  year,  as  I  do." 

**  As  to  that,"  said  the  dial,  **is  there  not  a  window  in  your 
house  for  you  to  look  through?  " 

**  For  all  that,"  resumed  the  pendulum,  **  it  is  very  dark  here, 
and,  although  there  is  a  window,  I  dare  not  stop,  even  for  an 
instant,  to  look  out  at  it.  Besides,  I  am  really  tired  of  my  way 
of  life  ;  and  if  you  wish,  I'll  tell  you  how  I  took  this  disgust  at  my 
employment.  I  happened  this  morning  to  be  calculating  how 
many  times  I  should  have  to  tick  in  the  course  of  only  the  next 
twenty-four  hours ;  perhaps  some  of  you  there  above  can  give  me 
the  exact  sum." 

The  minute-hand,  being  quick  at  figures,  replied,  "Eighty- 
six  thousand  four  hundred  times." 

"Exactly  so,"  replied  the  pendulum.  "Well,  I  appeal  to 
you  all,  if  the  very  thought  of  this  was  not  enough  to  fatigue 
one ;  and  when  I  began  to  multiply  the  strokes  of  one  day  by 
those  of  months  and  years,  really  it  is  no  wonder  if  I  felt  dis- 
couraged at  the  prospect ;  so,  after  a  great  deal  of  reasoning  and 
hesitation,  thinks  I  to  myself,  I'll  stop." 

The  dial  could  scarcely  keep  its  countenance  during  this 
harangue,  but,  resuming  its  gravity,  thus  replied:  "Dear  Mr. 
Pendulum,  I  am  really  astonished  that  such  a  useful,  industrious 
person  as  yourself  should  have  been  overcome  by  this  sudden 
suggestion.  It  is  true,  you  have  done  a  good  deal  of  work  in 
your  time  ;  so  have  we  all,  and  are  likely  to  do,  which,  although 
it  may  fatigue  us  to  think  of,  the   question   is,  whether   it  will 


IN  THt,  child's  world.  ,   43 

fatigue  us  to  do.     Will  you  now  give  about  half  a  dozen  strokes 
to  illustrate  my  argument?  " 

The  pendulum  complied,  and  ticked  six  times  in  its  usual 
pace.  '*  Now,"  resumed  the  dial,  **  may  I  be  allowed  to  inquire 
if  that  exertion  was  at  all  fatiguing  or  disagreeable  to  you?  " 

**Not  in  the  least,"  replied  the  pendulum;  **it  is  not  of  six 
strokes  that  I  complain,  nor  of  sixty  but  of  millions.^' 

"Yery  good,"  replied  the  dial,  **but,  recollect  that,  though 
you  may  think  of  a  million  strokes  in  an  instant,  you  are  required 
to  execute  but  one ;  and  that,  however  often  you  may  hereafter 
have  to  swing,  a  moment  will  always  be  given  you  to  swing  in." 

**Then  I  hope,"  resumed  the  dial  plate,  **we  shall  all  imme- 
diately return  to  our  duty,  for  the  maids  will  lie  in  bed  if  we 
stand  idling  thus." 

Upon  this  the  weights,  who  had  never  been  accused  of  light 
conduct,  used  all  their  influence  in  urging  him  to  proceed ; 
when,  as  with  one  consent,  the  wheels  began  to  turn,  the  hands 
began  to  move,  and  the  pendulum  began  to  swing ;  while  a  beam 
of  the  rising  sun,  that  streamed  through  a  hole  in  the  kitchen 
window,  shone  full  upon  the  dial  plate,  when  it  brightened  up  as  if 
nothing  had  been  the  matter.  When  the  farmer  came  down  to 
breakfast  that  morning,  upon  looking  at  the  clock,  he  declared 
that  his  watch  had  gained  half  an  hour  in  the  night. 

Jane  Taylor. 


LEAVES. 


44 


AUTUMN, 


To  THE  Teacher:— 


Bring  all  of  nature  that  is  possible  into  the  kindergarten — colored  leaves, 
autumn  flowers,  deserted  nests,  chrysalides,  bare  twigs,  etc.  Ask  the  children 
to  bring,  during  the  week,  whatever  they  can  find  which  shows  that  autumn 
has  come.  To  revive  the  memories  of  summer  and  contrast  summer  and 
autumn,  is  the  special  aim  of  this  talk.  Reach  back  to  spring  and  forward  to 
winter  incidentally. 

The  thought  of  autumn  as  the  harvest  time  and  the  time  of  preparing  for 
winter  should  run  through  all  the  talks  at  this  season  of  the  year. 


THE  TALK. 

Who  can  remember  the  first  day  we  came  to  kindergarten  ^this 
year?  What  can  you  remember  before  that?  Why  did  we  not 
have  kindergarten  then?  What  do  we  call  that  time  of  year 
when  the  weather  is  so  warm?  Tell  me  something  about  the 
summer.  If  the  children  have  been  to  the  city  parks  or  gar- 
dens or  playgrounds,  speak  of  the  beauty  and  advantages  of  such 
places,  not  forgetting  to  give  credit  to  the  city  for  providing 
them.     Did  any  of  you  go  to  the  seashore?     Tell  us  about  it. 

Did  any  of  you  go  into  the  country?  to  a  farm?  What  was 
the  farmer  doing?  Taking  care  of  what  he  had  planted  in  the 
spring — cutting  the  grass,  raking  and  taking  in  the  hay,  hoeing 
corn  and  potatoes,  weeding  the  garden,  etc.  Tell  me  what  some 
of  the  animals  were  doing  in  the  summer.  Farm  horses  work- 
ing, cattle  enjoying  the  pasture,  squirrels,  birds  and  insects  play- 
ing merrily  in  the  woods  and  fields. 

(Contrast  all  these  summer  activities  with  the  autumn  doings 


46 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


at  the  farm  and  in  the  woods.)  Is  it  summer  now?  Let  us  see 
how  many  signs  we  can  think  of  which  show  that  autumn  is  here. 
Once  upon  a  time  some  little  children  had  been  talking  about 
the  signs  of  autumn  just  as  we  have,  and  they  asked  a  friend  of 
theirs  to  write  some  autumn  verses  for  them.  They  told  her 
just  what  to  put  into  the  verses.  Suppose  I  tell  you  what  she 
wrote.  Listen  carefully  and  see  whether  we  had  thought  of  all 
the  signs  of  autumn  which  the  verses  mention.  (Read  or  recite 
slowly  **  An  Autumn  Song.'*) 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Change  of  Seasons  ("Sun,  Moon  and  Stars"),         -        -        -  Agnes  Cibeme 

November's  Wild  Flowers,  \    /'«qi,„,„  Tr„ae»\  ny  u  r;u.^^ 

The  Autumn  Pipers,  /    ^    ^^"P  ^^"^   >'       '        '        '     ^- ^'  ^^^'''" 

The  Sleeping  Flowers,     -------  Emily  Dickinson 

The  Pomegranate  Seed,   --•-••--         Hawthorne 

The  Huskers,       1 Whittier 

Song  of  Harvest,  /  wnittier 

Times  go  by  Turns,  -.-...-         Robert  Southwell 

In  Time's  Swing,     -- -     Lucy  Larcom 

An  Indian  Summer  Reverie,    -.--..--       Lowell 
Fringed  Gentian,  \  „        i 

Death  of  the  Flowers,  J ^^^^^ 

On  the  Grasshopper  and  Cricket,      ----••         Leigh  Hunt 

On  the  Grasshopper  and  Cricket,      •        •         ,        -        •       ,-        -        Keats 
The  Reaper,    ------•-•-        Wordsworth 

Autumn  (From  "  The  Seasons  "),---•-•-    Thomson 

For  the  Qiildfcn* 

The  Maple  Leaf  and  the  Violet  ("  The  Story  Hour  "),      -  -   Nora  A,  Smith 
The  Anxious  Leaf ,               \    ("Kindergarten  Stories  and 

The  Little  Harvest  Mouse,  J             Morning  Talks "),      -  -      S.  B.  Wiltse 

Two  Bunnies  ("  Stories  for  the  Kindergarten  and  Home"),  Af.  L.  Vom  Kirk 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  47 

STORIES. 

The  Baby-Buds'  Winter  Clothes. 

The  warm  summer  had  gone  and  autumn  had  come  with  its 
cooler  winds,  when  one  day,  the  hickory  tree  said  to  its  leaves : 
"My  pretty  yellow  leaves,  you  need  not  take  care  of  the  baby- 
buds  any  more,  as  it  is  time  for  them  to  put  on  their  winter 
clothes.  But  I  think  the  flower  seeds  would  like  to  have  you 
help  them  now.  Are  you  willing  to  go  down  to  the  ground  in 
order  to  help  them?  " 

**  Yes,''  said  the  leaves,  *'we  would  like  to  help  the  dear  little 
seeds  to  be  "flowers."  So  they  dropped  to  the  ground,  and  cov- 
ered it,  that  the  little  seeds  might  not  freeze  in  their  winter 
home  in  the  earth,  but  might  live  to  make  plants  and  flowers  in 
the  spring. 

Then  the  hickory  tree  said  :  **  Baby-buds,  it  is  time  for  you  to 
put  on  your  winter  clothes,  so  that  you  can  keep  warm  all  winter 
and  open  into  leaves  in  the  spring."  *' We  are  all  ready,"  said 
the  buds  ;  so  the  tree  gave  them  their  coats.  The  outside  coat 
of  each  bud  was  a  gum  coat  to  keep  out  the  wet.  "  Why,  that 
was  a  waterproof  coat !  How  funny  for  the  buds  to  have  water- 
proof coats."  Yes,  it  is  strange,  but  if  you  learn  how  to  look, 
you  will  find  out  a  great  many  strange  things. 

After  the  little  side-buds  had  been  given  their  winter  clothes, 
the  tree  said:  "My  little  end-buds,  you  are  so  much  more 
exposed  to  the  cold  than  the  other  buds  that  you  must  be  dressed 
more  warmly  than  they  are."  So  the  little  end-buds  put  on  one 
coat  after  another,  till  you  would  have  thought,  to  look  at  them, 
that  they  were  at  least  twice  as  large  as  the  side-buds,  and  their 
gum  coats  had  to  be  a  great  deal  bigger  than  those  of  the  others. 

I  saw  an  end-bud  of  a  hickory  tree  once  that  had  twelve  coats 
on  it. 

Then  all  the  baby  buds  said :  **  Thank  you,  dear  tree,  for  our 
winter  clothes.     Now  we  can  keep  warm  until  spring." 

Josephine  Jar  vis. 

Cobden,  III, 


48  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD, 


An  Autumn  Songf* 

The  song-birds  are  flying 

And  southward  are  hying,    • 
No  more  their  glad  carols  we  hear. 

The  gardens  are  lonely, — 

Chr^'santhemums  only 
Dare  now  let  their  beauty  appear. 

The  insects  are  hiding, — 

The  farmer  providing 
The  lambkins  a  shelter  from  cold. 

And  after  October 

The  woods  will  look  sober 
Without  all  their  crimson  and  gold. 

The  loud  winds  are  calling, 
The  ripe  nuts  are  falling. 

The  squirrel  now  gathers  his  store. 
The  bears,  homeward  creeping) 
Will  soon  all  be  sleeping 

So  snugly,  till  winter  is  o'er. 

Jack  Frost  will  soon  cover 

The  little  brooks  over; 
The  snow-clouds  are  up  in  the  sky 

All  ready  for  snowing; 

— Dear  Autumn  is  going! 
We  bid  her  a  loving  "  good-bye." 


Emilie  Poulsson 


The  Kind  Old  Oak. 

It  -was  almost  time  for  winter  to  come.  The  little  birds  had  all 
gone  far  away,  for  they  were  afraid  of  the  cold.  There  was  no 
green  grass  in  the  fields,  and  there  were  no  pretty  flowers  in  the 
gardens.  Many  of  the  trees  had  dropped  all  their  leaves.  Cold 
winter,  with  its  snow  and  ice,  was  coming.  At  the  foot  of  an  old 
oak  tree  some  sweet  little  violets  were  still  in  blossom.     **Dear 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 


49 


old  oak,"  said  they,  '*  winter  is  coming;  "we  are  afraid  that  we 
shall  die  of  cold." 

**Do  not  be  afraid,  little  ones,"  said  the  oak,  "close  your  yel- 
low eyes  in  sleep,  and  trust  to  me.  You  have  made  me  glad  many 
a  time  with  your  sweetness.  Now  I  will  take  care  that  the  winter 
shall  do  you  no  harm." 

So  the  violets  closed  their  pretty  eyes  and  went  to  sleep ;  they 
knew  that  they  could  trust  the  kind,  old  oak.  And  the  great  tree 
softly  dropped  red  leaf  after  red  leaf  upon  them,  until  they  were 
all  covered  over. 

The  cold  winter  came,  with  its  snow  and  ice,  but  it  could  not 
narm  the  little  violets.  Safe  under  the  friendly  leaves  of  the  old 
oak,  they  slept  and  dreamed  happy  dreams  until  the  warm  rains 
of  spring  came  and  waked  them  again. 

''  Little  Flower  Folks." 

Educational  Publishing  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


Chestnuts 
in  the 
Durr. 


The  Chestnut  Boys* 

In  a  warm  little  bed,  in  a 
little  green  house,  Mother 
Nature  had  tucked  three 
baby  boys  safely  away  for  a 
long  sleep. 

The  house  was  not  like 
the  ones  we  live  in,  for  it 
had   only   one  tiny  room, 
with  no  windows,  and  the 
door  was  fastened  so  tightly  that  no  one  could,  get  in  or  out. 

For  many,  many  bright  sunny  days  the  little  boys  were  sleep- 
ing, and  all  this  time  they  were  growing  a  little  larger  and  a  little 
larger,  just  as  you  all  are  growing. 

But  by  and  by  the  days  began  to  grow  cooler.  The  green  leaves 
put  on  their  autumn  dresses  of  red  and  yellow,  and  came  rustling 
down  from  the  tree  to  play  with  the  wind. 

Then  the  babies  stirred  in  their  little  bed,  for  the  Wind  was 
busy  painting  brown  their  green  house,  and  he  whistled  so  loudly 
at  his  work  that  they  heard  him  in  their  dreams.     Close  behind 


50  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

the  Wind  came  his  friend.  Jack  Frost,  a  roguish  little  fellow. 
Gently  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  house,  and  softly  he  whis*- 
pered,  ''  Come  out,  little  boys ;  come  out  and  play  with  me  !  '* 

But  Mother  Nature  only  tucked  her  babies  more  snugly  into 
bed,  and  answered :  "No,  not  yet,  dear  little  ones ;  sleep  a  little 
longer !  '* 

Then  Jack  Frost  went  away  to  play  with  the  red  and  yellow 
leaves;  but  soon  he  came  flying  back,  calling,  **Come  out  for  a 
frolic  with  me,  boys  ;  come  out  for  a  frolic  !  "  And  again  Mother 
Nature  answered  :   *'  Not  yet !  not  yet,  my  children  !  " 

Again  came  Jack  Frost,  and  knocked  very  loudly  at  the  door : 
**  Come  out !  come  out !  '*  he  called.  And  the  little  brothers  cried, 
**  Yes,  yes,  dear  Mother,  let  us  go  and  play  with  Jack  Frost  and 
the  Wind  r' 

Then  the  mother  smiled,  a  little  sadly,  and  answered :  **  Yes,  for 
you  have  grown  to  be  big  boys  now,  and  it  is  time  for  you  to  go  !  ** 
So  she  unfastened  the  door  and  opened  it  wide,  and  out  the  three 
hurried.  But  soon  they  found  that  the  big  world  was  not  at  all 
like  their  warm,  soft  little  house.  The  Wind  blew  and  whistled 
around  them,  and  made  them  shiver ;  and  Jack  Frost  was  a  rough 
playfellow,  though  he  meant  to  be  kind,  and  they  soon  grew 
weary  and  called  to  their  mother :  "Dear  Mother  Nature,  we  are 
tired  ;  put  us  to  sleep  again  !  " 

Then  the  mother  spread  over  them,  where  they  lay  on  the 
ground,  a  warm  covering  of  "  red  and  yellow  and  faded  brown." 

By  and  by  she  heard  their  sleepy  voices  again  :  "  Kind  Mother, 
we  are  cold  ! '  * 

Then  Mother  Nature  sent  a  soft,  white  covering  of  snow,  and 
wrapped  them  in  it  so  nicely,  that  they  had  hardly  time  to  mur- 
mur "Thank  you,  good  Mother,"  before  they  were  fast  asleep. 

And  there  they  will  stay,  till  the  warm  sun  and  the  gentle 
breezes  and  the  soft  rain  wake  them  in  the  sweet  springtime. 

Can  you  guess  who  the  little  brothers  were,  in  their  snug,  warm 
house  ? 

They  were  the  Chestnut  boys,  and  the  brown  burr  is  their  little 
house. 

Helen  Louise  Towne. 

*^  Kindergarten  Magazine. ^^ 


SEEDS. 

To  THE  Teacher: — 

This  talk,  contributed  by  a  friend,  is  based  upon  "  Treasure  Boxes  "  in  "Stories 
Mother  Nature  Told,"  by  Jane  Andrews. 

Provide  peach,  apple  and  other  fruits;  beans  and  peas  in  their  "boxes;" 
grains  and  other  seeds. 


THE  TALK. 


Begin  the  talk  by  allusions  to  boxes.  What  are  they  for?  To 
put  things  away  in.  We  have  boxes  in  the  kindergarten.  Some- 
times at  home  we  have  boxes  in  which  to  put  away  things  that  we 
care  very  much  about ;  treasure  boxes  they  are  sometimes  called. 
Now  I  am  going  to  show  you  something  that  has  a  treasure  box. 
(Bring  out  a  peach.) 

Do  you  think  this  peach  has  a  treasure  box?  Yes,  if  the  peach 
could  talk  it  would  tell  you  that  it  has  worked  all  summer  storing 
food  and  drinking  in  sunshine,  not  only  to  make  the  delicious 
soft  part  which  you  like  to  eat,  but  for  the  life  that  is  in  the 
''stone,"  as  we  sometimes  call  the  hard  part  in  the  middle. 

(Cut  away  the  fruit.  Show  the  deep  color,  and  how  the  fibers 
cling  to  the  stone  or  shell.)  This  stone  is  the  peach's  treasure 
box.  (Ask  if  anyone  knows  what  is  inside  the  shell.  Show  how 
hard  the  shell  is.  Let  a  child  try  to  open  it,  then  crack  it  and 
show  the  seed.)     The  seed  is  the  peach's  treasure. 

Do  you  know  of  any  other  treasure  boxes?  Apples,  plums, 
flower  seeds,  peas,  beans,  etc.,  etc.  (Ask  the  children  to  bring 
seeds  for  the  next  day,  when  you  will  tell  them  more  about  such 
treasure  boxes.) 


52  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

¥ot  the  Second  Day» 

Yesterday  we  talked  about  the  peach's  treasure  box ;  to-day  we 
have  many  others. 

(Place  fruits  on  table.  Let  the  children  come  in  groups,  or 
distribute  seeds  to  a  few  children.  Examine  the  fruits.  Question. 
Notice  similarities  and  differences.  Make  a  careful  study  of  the 
common  seeds  that  the  children  will  be  most  likely  to  bring — 
peaches,  apples,  plums,  melons,  etc.) 

At  the  End  of  the  week. 

What  have  we  been  talking  about  this  week ?  Seeds.  We  have 
seen  how  carefully  Mother  Nature  guards  her  treasure  boxes  and 
has  them  ready  for  use  in  the  springtime.  Is  there  any  one  who 
helps  Mother  Nature  ?  Yes  ;  the  farmer  and  all  the  seed  gatherers. 
Mother  Nature  says  to  them,  **  Unless  you  gather  and  take  care  of 
my  seeds  you  will  not  have  any  peach  trees  or  apple  trees  and  no 
corn  or  beans  or  peas  or  squashes,  etc.,"  and  so  the  farmer  saves 
his  seeds, — not  all  of  them,  but  those  that  he  needs  to  plant  or  sell, 
for  Mother  Nature  is  so  generous  that  she  provides  a  great  many 
seeds. 

And  now  for  a  wee  bit  of  a  story.  (Tell  how  a  farmer's  chil- 
dren helped  to  gather  and  save  the  seeds,  and  placed  them  in  boxes, 
bags  and  envelopes ;  how  the  farmer  marked  them  and  put  them 
away  in  a  place  where  they  would  keep.) 

Do  you  not  think  we  could  put  some  of  ours  away  in  bags  or 
envelopes  for  next  spring?  Perhaps  we  can  plant  some  of  them 
and  see  them  grow  here. 

We  will  try  to  make  something  out  of  our  colored  papers  to 
hold  the  seeds. 

L.  B.  P. 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 


53 


TEACHER^S  READING. 

Concerning  a  Few  Common  Plants,  ------      Goodale 

How  Plants  Grow,  ---------  Gray 

Planting  Seeds  in  the  Schoolroom  ("  Outlines  of  Lessons 

in  Botany"),      -         -.- -  Jane  H.  Newell 

Quicklnrg^Seeds  and  Seedlings,}      ("  Sharp  Eyes"),    -         -         -       Gibson 
Story  of  Mary  and  the  Seeds  ("  Kindergarten  Magazine," 

May  and  June,  1891), E.G.Howe 

Song  of  the  Sower,  ----------       Bryant 

The  Little  Brown  Seed,    -         -  -         -         -  Harriet  Lothrop 

Little  Brown  Seed  in  the  Furrow,      -         -         -         -         -         -  Ida  W.  Benham 


For  the  Children. 

Quercus  Alba  ("Stories  Mother  Nature  Told") 


-    Jzne  Andrews 


STORffiS. 


Wtet  pea.s 


Five  Peas  in  a  Pod. 

There  were  once  five  peas  in  one  shell ;  they  were  green,  and 
the  shell  was  green,  so  they  believed  that  the  whole  world  must 
be  green  also,  which  was  a  very  natural  conclusion.  The  shell 
grew,  and  the  peas  grew  ;  they  accommodated  themselves  to  their 
position,  and  sat  all  in  a  row.  The  sun  shone  without  and 
varmed  the  shell,  and  the  rain  made  it  clear  and  transparent ; 


54  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

it  was  mild  and  agreeable  in  broad  daylight,  and  dark  at  night ; 
and  the  peas  as  they  sat  there  grew  bigger  and  bigger,  and  more 
thoughtful  as  they  mused,  for  they  felt  there  must  be  something 
for  them  to  do. 

*'Are  we  to  sit  here  for  ever?"  asked  one;  *' shall  we  not 
become  hard  by  sitting  so  long?  It  seems  to  me  there  must  be 
something  outside,  ana  I  feel  sure  of  it." 

And  as  weeks  passed  by  the  peas  became  yellow,  and  the  shell 
became  yellow. 

**  All  the  world  is  turning  yellow,  I  suppose,"  said  they — and 
perhaps  they  were  right. 

Suddenly  they  felt  a  pull  at  the  shell ;  it  was  torn  off,  and  held 
in  human  hands,  then  slipped  into  the  pocket  of  a  jacket  in  com- 
pany with  other  full  pods. 

'*Now  we  shall  soon  be  opened,"  said  one — just  what  they  all 
wanted. 

**I  should  like  to  know  which  of  us  will  travel  farthest,"  said 
the  smallest  of  the  five ;  **  we  shall  soon  see  now." 

*'What  is  to  happen  will  happen,"  said  the  largest  pea. 

**  Crack,"  went  the  shell  as  it  burst,  and  the  five  peas  rolled 
out  into  the  bright  sunshine.  There  they  lay  in  a  child's  hand. 
A  little  boy  was  holding  them  tightly,  and  said  they  were  fine 
peas  for  his  pea-shooter.  And  immediately  he  put  one  in  and 
shot  it  out. 

**Now  I  am  flying  out  into  the  wide  world,"  said  the  pea; 
**  catch  me  if  you  can ;"  and  he  was  gone  in  a  moment. 

**  I,"  said  the  second,  **  intend  to  fly  straight  to  the  sun;  that 
is  a  shell  that  lets  itself  be  seen,  and  it  will  suit  me  exactly;" 
and  away  he  went. 

**  We  will  go  to  sleep  wherever  we  find  ourselves,"  said  the 
two  next,  *'we  shall  still  be  rolling  onwards;"  and  they  did  cer- 
tainly fall  on  the  floor  and  roll  about  before  they  got  into  the 
pea-shooter;  but  they  were  put  in  for  all  that.  ''We  shall  go 
farther  than  the  others,"  said  they. 

''What  is  to  happen  will  happen,"  exclaimed  the  last,  as  he 
was  shot  out  of  the  pea-shooter;  and  as  he  spoke  he  flew  up 
against  an  old  board  under  a  garret  window,  and  fell  into  a  little 
crevice,  which  was  almost  filled  up  with  m-^ss  and  soft  earth. 


**  GETTING  WELL/' 


55 


56  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

The  moss  closed  itself  around  him,  and  there  he  lay,  a  captive 
indeed,  but  not  unnoticed  by  God. 

**  What  is  to  happen  will  happen,"  said  he  to  himself. 

Within  the  garret  lived  a  poor  woman,  who  went  out  to  clean 
stoves,  chop  wood  into  small  pieces,  and  perform  other  hard 
work,  for  she  was  strong  and  industrious.  Yet  she  remained 
always  poor ;  and  at  home  in  the  garret  lay  her  only  daughter, 
not  quite  grown  up,  and  very  delicate  and  weak.  For  a  whole 
year  she  had  kept  her  bed.  Quietly  and  patiently  she  lay  all  day 
long,  while  her  mother  was  away  from  home  at  her  work. 

Spring  came,  and  one  morning  early  the  sun  shone  brightly 
through  the  little  window  and  threw  his  rays  over  the  floor  of 
the  room.  Just  as  the  mother  was  going  to  her  work,  the  sick 
girl  fixed  her  gaze  on  the  lowest  pane  of  the  window.  ''Mother  ! " 
she  exclaimed,  **what  can  that  little  green  thing  be  that  peeps 
in  at  the  window?     It  is  moving  in  the  wind." 

The  mother  stepped  to  the  window  and  half  opened  it.  '*0h  !" 
she  said,  ''there  is  actually  a  little  pea  which  has  taken  root  and 
is  putting  on  its  green  leaves.  How  could  it  have  got  into  this 
crack  !  Well,  now,  here  is  a  little  garden  for  you  to  amuse  your- 
self with."  So  the  bed  of  the  sick  girl  was  drawn  nearer  to  the 
window,  that  she  might  see  the  budding  plant ;  and  the  mother 
went  out  to  her  work. 

"Mother,  I  believe  I  shall  get  well,"  said  the  sick  child  in  the 
evening,  "  the  sun  has  shone  in  here  so  brightly  and  warmly  to- 
day, and  the  little  pea  is  thriving  so  well ;  I  shall  get  on  better, 
too,  and  go  out  into  the  warm  sunshine  again." 

"  God  grant  it !  "  said  the  mother,  but  she  did  not  believe  it 
would  be  so.  But  she  propped  up  with  a  little  stick  the  green 
plant  which  had  given  her  child  such  pleasant  hopes  of  life,  so 
that  it  might  not  be  broken  by  the  winds ;  she  tied  the  piece  of 
string  to  the  window  sill  and  to  the  upper  part  of  the  frame, 
so  that  the  pea  tendrils  might  twine  round  it  when  it  shot  up. 
And  it  did  shoot  up ;  indeed  it  might  almost  be  seen  to  grow 
from  day  to  day. 

"Really,  here  is  a  flower  coming,"  said  the  old  woman  one 
morning,  and  now  at  last  she  began  to  encourage  the  hope  that 
her  little  sick  daughter  might  really  recover.     She  remembered 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  57 

that  for  some  time  the  child  had  spoken  more  cheerfully,  and 
during  the  last  few  days  had  raised  herself  in  bed  in  the  morning 
to  look  -with  sparkling  eyes  at  her  little  garden  which  contained 
only  a  single  pea-plant.  A  week  after,  the  invalid  sat  up  for  the 
first  time  a  whole  hour,  feeling  quite  happy  by  the  open  window 
in  the  warm  sunshine,  while  outside  grew  the  little  plant,  and 
on  it  a  pink  pea-blossom  in  full  bloom.  The  little  maiden  bent 
down  and  gently  kissed  the  delicate  leaves.  This  day  was  to 
her  like  a  festival. 

''Our  Heavenly  Father  Himself  has  planted  that  pea,  and 
made  it  grow  and  flourish,  to  bring  joy  to  you  and  hope  to  me, 
my  blessed  child,"  said  the  happy  mother,  and  she  smiled  at  the 
flower,  as  if  it  had  been  an  angel  from  God. 

And  when  the  young  maiden  stood  at  the  open  garret  window, 
with  sparkling  eyes  and  the  rosy  hue  of  health  on  her  cheeks, 
she  folded  her  thin  hands  over  the  pea-blossom  and  thanked  God 
for  what  He  had  done. 

Hans  Christian  Andersen. 


Psychc^s  Tasfcs^ 

There  was  once  a  very  beautiful  earthly  maiden  named  Psyche. 
Every  one  liked  to  see  her  joyous  face,  as  she  roamed  over  the 
meadows  gathering  the  field-flowers,  or  sat  weaving  them  into 
garlands  for  her  friends.  She  had  many  friends  and  companions, 
but  chief  among  them  all  was  one  who  used  to  come  down  to 
visit  her  from  lofty  Olympus,  the  home  of  the  gods.  This  was 
the  little  winged  god,  Cupid,  who  loved  her  dearly. 

Now  Psyche,  charming  and  loving  as  she  was,  was  a  thought- 
less child,  and  one  day,  by  a  foolish  prank,  gave  such  offense  to 
Cupid  that  he  spread  his  rosy  wings  and  flew  away.  As  day 
after  day  passed  and  he  did  not  come  again,  she  mourned  and 
grieved  for  her  companion,  but  not  her  grief  nor  even  her 
repentance  could  bring  him  back. 

At  last,  some  one,  pitying  her  sorrow,  advised  her  to  go  to  the 
temple  of  Venus,  and  there  to  beg  the  assistance  of  Venus  her- 
self, who  was  the  mother  of  Cupid.     Psyche,  with  hope  revived. 


58  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

went  straightway  to  the  temple,  with  its  shining  pillars  and 
white  marble  steps,  and  humbly  made  her  request,  but  Venus 
told  her  that  there  were  hard  tasks  to  be  performed  before  she 
could  win  back  what  she  had  so  foolishly  lost.  Psyche  willingly 
undertook  to  perform  these,  but  when  she  learned  what  the  first 
one  was,  her  heart  sank.  Venus  led  her  to  a  vast  granary,  where 
wheat,  barley,  millet,  and  all  sorts  of  grain  lay  about  on  the 
floor,  mixed  together  in  hopeless  confusion.  '* Before  evening," 
said  Venus,  ''  all  these  different  sorts  of  grain  must  be  separated 
from  each  other,  and  each  kind  must  be  piled  by  itself." 

To  poor  Psyche  it  did  not  seem  possible  to  accomplish  such  a 
task ;  nevertheless,  she  at  once  set  to  work ;  she  would  at  least  do 
all  that  she  could,  she  thought;  so  she  sifted  and  sorted,  and 
arranged  without  stopping  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  Then,  as 
she  looked  at  her  orderly  little  piles  and  saw  how  tiny  they 
appeared  beside  the  great  heaps  of  grain  that  remained  to  be 
sorted,  she  felt  saddened  and  discouraged  indeed.  She  held 
bravely,  however,  to  her  purpose  of  doing  her  best,  little  as  it 
might  prove  to  be,  and  her  busy  hands  were  working  even 
more  quickly  than  before,  when — a  wonderful  thing  happened. 

Psyche  did  not  notice  it  at  first,  but  presently  raising  her  eyes 
from  her  work,  she  was  astonished  to  see  that  her  piles  of  sorted 
grain  had  mounted  to  a  surprising  height,  and  that  the  big  im- 
sorted  heaps  had  become  very  much  smaller.  From  every  side 
had  come  swarms  and  crowds  of  friendly  little  ants.  Each  one 
had  set  to  work,  as  patiently  and  as  perseveringly  as  Psyche  her- 
self, to  help  her  to  accomplish  her  task  before  the  end  of  the 
day.  She  could  see  them  tugging  away  at  grains  larger  than 
themselves,  or  marching  steadily,  one  behind  another,  each  set- 
ting down  his  burden  in  the  right  place  and  then  returning  for 
more.  Now  she  could  work  with  a  light  heart,  and  when  even- 
ing came  and  the  friendly  ants  had  trooped  off  through  their 
cracks  and  crannies,  the  task  was  accomplished  and  everything 
was  seen  to  be,  as  if  by  magic,  in  perfect  order.  Psyche  did  not 
know  who  had  sent  the  ants  to  her  assistance.  She  never 
thought  that  Cupid  himself,  though  he  could  not  come  to  her, 
was  helping  her  in  this  way. 

The  other  tasks  imposed  upon  Psyche  were  no  less  difficult 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  59 

than  the  first  had  been ;  but  though,  one  by  one,  Psyche  accom- 
plished them  all,  still  she  heard  nothing  of  her  beloved  companion 
and  was  beginning  to  despair  of  ever  seeing  him  again.  Cupid, 
however,  was  nearer  to  her  than  she  thought  and  the  moment 
came  at  last  when  he  could  go  to  her. 

One  day,  when  Psyche,  weary  and  discouraged,  was  least  ex- 
pecting him,  a  light  whirring  of  wings  sounded  in  the  air,  and 
in  a  moment  Cupid  himself,  like  a  shining  vision,  stood  before 
her  eyes.  She  could  hardly  believe  that  she  was  not  dreaming, 
even  when  he  told  her  that  her  troubles  and  labors  were  at  last 
over  and  that  he  was  to  be  separated  from  her  no  longer.  A 
beautiful  pair  of  butterfly  wings  was  given  to  Psyche,  that  she 
might  be  able  to  fly  as  Cupid  did,  and  together  the  two  went 
winging  their  way  through  the  blue  air  to  Olympus,  the  abode 
of  the  gods.  There  among  the  gods  and  goddesses,  Cupid  and 
Psyche  lived  joyfully  ever  after ;  never  again  were  they  separated 
from  one  another. 

F.  H. 


Apple-Seed  John* 

Poor  Johnny  was  bended  well-nigh  double 
With  years  of  toil,  and  care,  and  trouble; 
But  his  large  old  heart  still  felt  the  need 
Of  doing  for  others  some  kindly  deed. 

"  But  what  can  I  do?  "  old  Johnny  said; 
"I  who  work  so  hard  for  daily  bread.? 
It  takes  heaps  of  money  to  do  much  good; 
I  am  far  too  poor  to  do  as  I  would. " 

The  old  man  sat  thinking  deeply  a  while, 
Then  over  his  features  gleamed  a  smile, 
Then  he  clapped  his  hands  with  a  boyish  glee, 
And  said  to  himself,  "  There's  a  way  for  me! " 

He  worked,  and  he  worked  with  might  and  main, 
But  no  one  knew  the  plan  in  his  brain. 
He  took  ripe  apples  in  pay  for  chores, 
And  carefully  cut  from  them  all  the  cores. 


60 


IN   THE   CHILD'S   WORLD. 


He  filled  a  bag  full,  then  wandered  away, 
And  no  man  saw  him  for  many  a  day. 
"With  knapsack  over  his  shoulder  slung. 
He  marched  along,  and  whistled  or  sung. 

He  seemed  to  roam  with  no  object  in  view, 
Like  one  who  had  nothing  on  earth  to  do ; 
But,  journeying  thus  o'er  the  prairies  wide. 
He  paused  now  and  then,  and  his  bag  untied. 

"With  pointed  cane  deep  holes  he  would  bore. 
And  in  ev'ry  hole  he  placed  a  core; 
Then  covered  them  well,  and  left  them  there 
In  keeping  of  sunshine,  rain  and  air. 

Sometimes  for  days  he  waded  through  grass, 
And  saw  not  a  living  creature  pass. 
But  often,  when  sinking  to  sleep  in  the  dark. 
He  heard  the  owls  hoot  and  the  prairie  dogs  bark 

Sometimes  an  Indian  of  sturdy  limb 
Came  striding  along  and  walked  with  him; 
And  he  who  had  food  shared  with  the  other, 
As  if  he  had  met  a  hungry  brother. 

"When  the  Indian  saw  how  the  bag  was  filled. 
And  looked  at  the  holes  the  white  man  drilled, 
He  thought  to  himself  'twas  a  silly  plan 
To  be  planting  seed  for  some  future  man. 

Sometimes  a  log  cabin  came  in  view, 
"Where  Johnny  was  sure  to  find  jobs  to  do. 
By  which  he  gained  stores  of  bread  and  meat. 
And  welcome  rest  for  his  weary  feet. 

He  had  full  many  a  story  to  tell. 
And  goodly  hymns  that  he  sung  rignt  well; 
He  tossed  up  the  babes,  and  joined  the  boys 
In  many  a  game  full  of  fun  and  noise. 

And  he  seemed  so  hearty,  in  work  or  play. 
Men,  women,  and  boys  all  urged  him  to  stay; 
But  he  always  said,  "  I  have  something  to  do, 
And  I  must  go  on  to  carry  it  through." 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  61 

The  boys,  who  were  sure  to  follow  him  round, 
Soon  found  what  it  was  he  put  in  the  ground; 
And  so,  as  time  passed  and  he  traveled  on, 
Ev'ry  one  called  him  "Old  Apple-seed  John." 

Whenever  he'd  used  the  whole  of  his  store, 
He  went  into  cities  and  worked  for  more; 
Then  he  marched  back  to  the  wilds  again. 
And  planted  seed  on  hill-side  and  plain. 

In  cities,  some  said  the  old  man  was  crazy; 
While  others  said  he  was  only  lazy; 
But  he  took  no  notice  of  gibes  and  jeers. 
He  knew  he  was  working  for  future  years. 

He  knew  that  trees  would  soon  abound 
Where  once  a  tree  could  not  have  been  found; 
That  a  flick' ring  play  of  light  and  shade 
Would  dance  and  glimmer  along  the  glade; 

That  blossoming  sprays  would  form  fair  bowers, 
And  sprinkle  the  grass  with  rosy  showers; 
And  the  little  seeds  his  hands  had  spread 
Would  become  ripe  apples  when  he  was  dead. 

So  he  kept  on  traveling  far  and  wide, 

Till  his  old  limbs  failed  him,  and  he  died. 

He  said  at  the  last,  "  'Tis  a  comfort  to  feel 

I've  done  good  in  the  world,  though  not  a  great  deal."  * 

Weary  travelers,  journeying  west. 
In  the  shade  of  his  trees  find  pleasant  rest; 
And  they  often  start,  with  glad  surprise, 
At  the  rosy  fruit  that  round  them  lies. 

And  if  they  inquire  whence  came  such  trees. 
Where  not  a  bough  once  swayed  in  the  breeze. 
The  answer  still  comes,  as  they  travel  on, 
"These  trees  were  planted  by  Apple-seed  John." 

Lydia  Maria  Child 
"•  St.  Nicholas,"  June,  1880, 


THE  WIND, 


To  THE  Teacher  :- 


After  the  morning  greetings  the  central  subject  of  the  morning  may  be  in- 
troduced in  many  ways;  perhaps  by  directing  the  children's  observation  to  the 
weather,  finding  what  they  noticed  about  it  on  the  way  to  kindergarten;  or, 
if  they  have  been  singing  "  Come,  little  leaves,"  the  subject  of  the  wind  may 
be  brought  uppermost  easily  and  naturally  through  the  song. 


The  Wind  as  an  Unseen  Powen 

(The  thought  in  this  form  is,  of  course,  only  for  the  teacher's  mind.  No 
more  than  the  impression  is  to  be  given  to  the  children;  and  this  will  be  done 
by  leading  them  to  recall  familiar  manifestations  of  the  wind's  power.) 


THE  TALK. 


What  does  the  -wind  do?  Plays  with  the  leaves,  gets  the  trees 
ready  for  -winter,  covers  the  ground  with  them  to  help  keep  the 
roots  and  seeds  warm,  tells  the  birds  that  winter  is  coming, 
blows  the  nuts  down  from  the  tall  trees  in  the  wood,  as  well  as 
the  apples,  pears  and  other  fruits  from  the  orchard  trees. 

(Anecdote  of  child  in  an  orchard,  who  sees  an  apple  but  is  un- 
able to  reach  it  and  asks  the  wind  to  bring  it  to  her.) 

Going  back  to  other  than  Autumn  work, — the  wind  rocks  the 
birds  in  the  nests,  flies  kites,  drives  sailboats,  blows  the  clothes 
dry,  helps  the  sun  dry  the  ground  after  rain,  and  turns  the  wind- 
mills, which  are  sometimes  used  instead  of  water-mills.  Can  we 
hear  the  wind?     Can  we  feel  the  wind?     Can  we  see  the  wind? 

Can  we  see  what  the  wind  does? 


THE  WIND  AT  WORK, 


64  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

The  Wind  as  a  Sower  of  Seeds* 

(Recall  some  of  the  previous  talks  on  seeds.  Let  the  children 
tell  what  seeds  need  to  be  planted  ; — corn  seeds,  or  we  will  have  no 
corn ;  wheat  seeds,  or  we  will  have  no  wheat ;  flower  seeds  or  no 
flowers,  etc.,  etc.) 

What  has  the  farmer  been  doing  lately?  Gathering  seeds  from 
farm  and  garden  to  plant  in  the  spring.  What  pretty  yellow 
flower  do  we  find  in  the  grass  in  the  spring?  Does  the  dandelion 
have  seeds?  the  daisy?  the  oak  tree?  Does  the  farmer  go  every- 
where to  gather  such  seeds?  But  we  always  have  dandelions 
and  daisies.  Then  they  must  have  been  planted.  Who  does  this? 
Some  one  who  works  and  plays,  though  we  never  see  him.  Yes  ! 
the  wind  sows  such  seeds, — blows  them  from  the  plant,  carries 
them  along,  drops  them,  blows  dust  and  leaves  over  them  till  they 
are  covered  and  can  take  root  by  and  by,  and  come  up  in  the  spring 
when  the  other  seeds  do. 


What  the  Winds  Bring. 

Contrast  gentle  breezes  and  wild,  boisterous  winds.  Notice 
how  Mr.  Wind  sometimes  knocks  at  one  window,  sometimes  at 
another  ; — that  is,  comes  from  different  directions.  North  Wind 
coming  from  the  cold  countries,  tells  us  to  remember  '^Agoonack," 
brings  ice  and  snow,  is  a  friend  of  *'  Little  Jack  Frost."  South 
Wind  comes  from  the  warm  countries,  whispers  of  summer,  comes 
from  the  same  land  as  the  oranges  and  bananas,  brings  warmth. 
East  Wind  comes  from  the  ocean,  brings  moisture,  fog  or  rain. 
''West  Wind,  Best  Wind"  brings  bright,  clear  weather. 

Weather  Yane  useful  to  tell  which  wind  is  blowing.  Anecdote 
of  child  and  weather  vane.  Child  was  going  on  a  picnic  ;  weather 
doubtful;  but  soon  the  weather  vane  turned,  showing  that  the 
wind  had  changed,  promising  good  weather.  Child  happy  and 
grateful.     Froebel's  play  of  the  Weather  Vane. 

A  favorite  verse  about  the  wind  is  : — 

"  Whichever  way  the  wind  doth  blow 
Some  heart  is  glad  to  have  it  so. 
Then  blow  it  east  or  blow  it  west, 
The  wind  that  blows,  that  wind  is  best." 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  65 

TEACHER^S  READING. 

T^%^°^.^,^i^^f'         .    )    ("Hiawatha"),       -        -        -        -  Longfellow 

The  White  Man's  Foot,  j    ^  '^ 

The  Maiden  and  the  Weather  Cock,  \  _         _  Lond'ellow 

The  Windmill,  j       -         -         -         -  ^J 

The  Winds,  ^  \ Bryant 

To  the  Evening  Wind,  J  ^ 

Sweet  and  Low,        - Tennyson 

What  the  Winds  Bring, '        -  E.  C  Stedman 

The  Wind  in  a  Frolic, -        -   William  Howitt 

Earth  and  Man,        -  -  -         Guyoi 


STORffiS. 


How  West  Wind  Helped  Dandelion. 

There  was  once  a  Dandelion  plant  which  grew  in  the  grass  just 
outside  a  garden  fence.  The  leaves  of  the  plant  were  thick  and 
green,  and  its  flower  (held  on  rather  a  high  stem,  for  it  was  a  late 
blossom)  was  very  full  and  round,  and  of  the  brightest  yellow. 

The  Dandelion  was  usually  as  happy  as  a  queen — though  not 
because  of  the  golden  crown,  oh,  no  !  Nor  is  it  the  crown  which 
makes  the  queen  happy,  if  that  is  what  you  are  thinking  !  But 
the  Dandelion  was  happy  in  the  beautiful  world  and  in  her  loving 
friends,  and  happy  in  her  work  and  her  play. 

Who  were  her  friends?  Oh!  the  Sunbeams  that  came  sliding 
down  from  the  great  sun  and  kept  little  Dandelion  warm,  and 
made  her  green  leaves  greener  and  her  yellow  flower  brighter 
whenever  they  came  ;  and  the  Raindrops  who  tumbled  their  little 
silvery  selves  down  upon  her,  as  if  in  a  great  fury  sometimes,  but 
only  intending  a  frolic  and  not  really  hurting  her.  They  brought 
her  all  the  water  she  had  to  drink  and  bathe  in,  and  Dandelion 
missed  them  very  much  if  they  stayed  long  away.  The  great 
Winds  were  her  friends,  too.  Dandelion  was  just  the  least  bit 
afraid  of  them,  to  tell  the  truth,  and  liked  them  best  when  they 
were  gentle  and  quiet,  or  when  they  sent  their  messengers,  the 
little  Breezes,  to  play  with  her. 


66  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

Dandelion  had  friends  of  another  sort,  too  ;  little  creatures  made 
of  music,  motion,  and  feathers, —  (we  call  them  birds) . 

Insects,  too,  visited  her ; — butterflies  as  yellow  as  her  flower, 
grasshoppers  as  green  as  her  leaves,  bees  going  a-marketing  for 
honey  and  pollen,  ants  running  nimbly  along  on  their  six  thread- 
like legs,  and  many,  many  others,  down  to  the  tiny,  moving, 
black  specks  which  seemed  too  small  to  be  alive  and  yet  were  as 
full  of  life  as  their  larger  neighbors. 

Besides  all  these  friends.  Dandelion  had  some  flower  friends ; 
the  clovers  who  lived  near  her  on  the  roadside,  and  the  garden 
flowers  who  lived  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence.  The  nearest 
neighbors  among  the  garden  flowers  were  some  morning-glories 
who  had  actually  climbed  over  the  fence  and  were  as  friendly  as 
possible. 

Dandelion's  play  was  with  any  of  these  different  friends.  Her 
work  was  to  grow  and  make  seeds, — as  many  good  seeds  as  she 
possibly  could. 

As  the  long,  bright  days  passed.  Dandelion  worked  faithfully, 
in  a  flower's  quiet,  unseen  way  of  working ;  and  at  last  her  seeds 
were  formed.  Instead  of  the  golden  crown  of  a  flower  which  she 
had  worn,  her  stalk  held  up  a  beautiful  ball  of  silvery  gauze.  The 
tiny  seeds  were  in  this  ball  and  would  be  ripe  very  soon. 

One  day  Dandelion  saw  two  children.  Max  and  Nannie,  walk- 
ing about  in  the  garden  in  a  very  business-like  way.  When  they 
came  to  the  morning-glory  vine,  she  could  hear  what  they  were 
saying. 

*'  Where  is  the  box  for  the  morning-glory  seeds.  Max?  "  called 
the  little  girl.     **  I  see  ever  so  many  ripe  ones." 

*'Here  it  is,"  replied  Max,  who  had  been  looking  in  the  basket 
which  he  carried.  **We  must  gather  a  great  many  morning- 
glory  seeds,  for  you  know  we  want  to  plant  them  all  along  the 
fence  next  year ;  and  we  are  going  to  send  some  to  Cousin  Fan, 
too." 

**  Yes,  and  then  she  will  have  the  same  kind  of  flowers  away  off 
there  that  we  have  here,"  said  Nannie,  as  she  poked  among  the 
leaves  and  blossoms  of  the  morning-glory  vine  to  find  the  plump 
seed  vessels.  Soon  she  had  gathered  all  the  ripe  ones,  and  she 
and  Max  went  back  up  the  garden  walk  and  into  the  house. 


IN  THE  CHILD*S  WORLD.  67 

The  Dandelion  plant  pondered  on  what  it  had  heard.  Seeds  ! 
Why,  Dandelion  plants  had  seeds  as  well  as  morning-glory  vines  ! 
Probably  Max  and  Nannie  would  come  for  her  seeds.  They  would 
soon  be  ready, — in  a  few  days,  surely. 

The  few  days  passed  quickly.  Every  morning  Max  and  Nannie 
came  out  with  their  basket  and  little  boxes  and  went  to  the  garden 
plants,  gathering  the  ripe  seeds.  But  alas !  for  the  hopes  of  the 
Dandelion  plant !  They  never  looked  at  her  or  even  thought  of 
her  seeds,  although  they  loved  dandelions  as  well  as  any  other 
children. 

Poor  Dandelion  felt  very  much  slighted.  Why  did  not  Max 
and  Nannie  want  her  seeds  to  plant  next  year  or  to  send  to  Cousin 
Fan?  Who  would  gather  her  seeds?  She  had  tried  so  hard  and 
worked  so  faithfully,  and  arranged  her  seeds  so  beautifully.  Was 
it  all  for  nothing? 

Hark  !  **  Cheer-up  !  Cheer-up  !  "  sang  a  robin  in  the  orchard ; 
and  a  little  whispering  breeze  rustled  past  her,  breathing  softly ; 
*'Wait,  oh,  wait!" 

''  Ah  !  but  what  will  become  of  my  seeds?  No  one  will  gather 
them  and  they  will  all  be  wasted." 

The  breeze  passed  on  and  then  came  a  stronger  puff  of  air. 

**  West  Wind  is  coming,"  thought  Dandelion,  trembling  a  little  ; 
and  just  then  she  heard  him  calling. 

*'  What,  ho  !  there.  Dandelion !  Are  you  too  warm?  I  will  fan 
you.  Are  you  too  wet?  I  will  help  you  shake  the  heavy  drops 
from  your  leaves  and  flowers." 

*'No,"  said  the  Dandelion,  '*my  leaves  are  not  laden  with 
water,  nor  is  my  heart  parched  with  heat ;  but  my  seeds,  my 
precious  seeds  are  all  to  be  wasted.     No  one  will  gather  them." 

**  Ho,  ho  !  "  laughed  West  Wind,  noisily,  but  kindly.  "And 
what  do  you  wish  to  have  done  with  your  seeds?  " 

**I  wish  they  could  be  planted  next  year,"  said  Dandelion, 
**  some  of  them  here,  and  some  of  them  far  away, — just  as  will  be 
done  to  the  seeds  of  the  garden  plants." 

**  Ho,  ho  !"  laughed  West  Wind  again,  as  noisily  and  kindly  a- 
before.  **That  is  an  easy  matter  to  arrange.  In  fact  it  is 
arranged.  It  is  one  of  the  things  I  was  to  attend  to  this  very 
morning,  if  your  seeds  were  ripe." 


68 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


**  And  have  you  brought  a  little  box  with  you?"  asked  Dandelion. 

'*  Not  I ! "  replied  West  Wind.     "  I  manage  differently  from  the 
children.     I  sow  the  seeds  as  I  gather  them,  and  I  also  cover  them.  . 
Then  they  are  all  ready  to  wake  up  and  grow  in  the  early  spring." 

'*  Oh  !  thank  you,  good  West  Wind,"  said  Dandelion.  **  What 
a  kind  friend  you  are  ! " 

"It  is  a  part  of  our  work,"  said  West  Wind.  "My  brothers 
and  I  have  a  great  deal  of  seed-sowing  to  do  in  all  the  forests  and 
fields  over  the  whole  earth.  But  I  must  not  talk  any  longer. 
Now,  ready  !     One,  two,  three,  whew  !     Away  they  go." 


r: 


v^ 


Dandelion  heard  a  merry 
whistle  and  felt  a  sudden 
strong  puff  against  her. 
At  the  same  instant  all 
her  seeds  were  gone.  Where  the 
feathery  white  ball  had  been  there 
showed  now  a  little  bald  knob. 

"  Why  !  "  said  Dandelion  rather  bewil- 
dered, "  how  quickly  that  was  done  ! " 

She  looked  about  her.  Here  and  there 
on  the  grass  near  her  she  saw  several  of 
her  seeds ;  and  then  looking  farther  and 
yet  farther  away  she  could  see  others 
whirling  and  dancing  through  the  air 
carried  along  by  the  friendly  seed  sower. 
West  Wind. 

The  little  silky  plumes  which  each  seed 
wore,  and  which  had 
made  Dandelion's  ball 
of  silvery  gauze, made 
it  easy  for  the  wind  to 
take  the  seeds  as  far 
as  Dandelion  could 
wish ;  and  some  were 
also  left  to  grow  right  there  on  the  roadside  bank,  where  she  her- 
self had  always  lived. 

Dandelion  was  very  happy.     The  robin  in  the  orchard  sang 
again  his  hearty  "Cheer-up  !  Cheer-up  !  "  and  a  little  breeze  which 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  69 

followed  after  West  Wind  whispered  softly  as  before  :  "Wait !  oh, 
wait ! '' 

**Yes,"  said  Dandelion;  *' there  was  no  need  of  my  worrying. 
But  who  would  have  thought  that  the  great  West  Wind  would 
take  care  of  the  seeds  of  a  plain  little  Dandelion  !  " 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


The  Dandelion  Cycle* 

"  Pretty  little  Goldilocks,  shining  in  the  sun, 
Pray,  what  will  become  of  you  when  the  summex's  done  ?" 

"  Then  I'll  be  old  Silverhead;  for,  as  I  grow  old. 
All  my  shining  hair  will  be  white  instead  of  gold. 

**  And  where  rests  a  silver  hair  that  has  blown  from  me, 
Other  little  Goldilocks  in  the  Spring  you'll  see! 

"  Goldilocks  to  Silverhead,  Silverhead  to  gold, 
So  the  change  is  going  on  every  year,  I'm  told." 


E.  P. 


Odysseus  and  the  Bag  of  Winds. 

Far-famed  Odysseus  was  on  his  way  across  the  sea,  to  his  home 
in  rocky  Ithaca,  when  he  came  to  the  island  of  ^olia.  Many 
had  been  his  wanderings,  by  sea  and  land,  since  he  had  left  his 
own  fair  dwelling,  and  most  welcome  was  the  sight  of  this  friendly 
shore.  Here  lived  the  great  King  of  the  winds — -^olus — who 
could  send  gentle  zephyrs  murmuring  over  the  sea,  and  could  call 
back  the  wild  tempests  when  they  played  too  roughly  with  the 
waves.  Well  might  Odysseus  and  his  companions  rejoice  at 
coming  to  the  wonderful  floating  island  of  King  ^Eolus,  for  here 
they  were  kindly  treated,  after  their  toils  and  troubles,  and  when 
the  time  came  for  them  to  start  once  more  on  their  way  .^olus 
stowed  in  their  boat  gifts  and  provisions  of  all  kinds  for  their 
voyage. 

One  of  these  gifts  was  very  strange  in  its  appearance — a  great 
bulging  sack,  as  large  as  an  ox ;  in  fact  it  was  made  of  an  ox's 
skin — tied  tightly  about  with   a  cord   of   shining   silver.     This 


70  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

^olus  placed  carefully  in  the  boat,  and  taking  Odysseus  aside 
told  him  that  in  this  skin  he  had  bound  up  the  blustering  winds, 
so  that  no  storms  should  disturb  the  calm  of  the  ocean,  and  drive 
the  little  boat  out  of  her  course.  If,  however,  Odysseus  should 
at  any  time  be  in  need  of  a  powerful  blast  to  carry  the  boat 
swiftly  away  from  some  dangerous  coast,  or  from  some  enemy, 
he  was  to  open  the  bag  with  great  caution  and,  letting  out  only 
the  wind  he  wished,  to  close  it  again  quickly,  and  bind  it  fast 
with  the  silver  cord.  When  ^olus  had  bidden  farewell  to  Odys- 
seus and  his  crew,  he  sent  a  gentle  west  wind  after  him,  to  bear 
them  prosperously  en  their  way. 

Day  after  day  they  sailed  peacefully  over  the  gleaming  ocean, 
the  soft  gale  bearing  them  along,  while  Odysseus  managed  the 
sail,  and  kept  watch  night  and  day.  On  the  tenth  day  Odysseus 
was  lying  asleep  in  the  boat,  resting  from  his  labors,  when  the 
sailors  began  talking  among  themselves  of  the  mysterious-look- 
ing bag.  **It  must  be  full  of  treasures,"  said  they,  ''and  why 
should  not  we  have  our  share  of  them?  '' 

Speaking  thus  foolishly,  they  finally  decided  to  open  the  bag. 
They  loosed  the  silver  cord,  but  they  need  to  do  no  more,  for 
the  boisterous  winds  at  once  burst  forth,  and  in  a  twinkling  had 
lashed  the  quiet  waves  into  foam,  and  whirled  the  boat  far  out  of 
her  course.  The  helmsman  could  do  nothing,  since  the  boat  no 
longer  obeyed  the  rudder,  and  even  Odysseus,  awakened  by  the 
commotion,  was  powerless  against  these  roaring,  whistling  winds 
that  tossed  the  little  boat  hither  and  thither  at  their  will. 

At  last  Odysseus  and  his  men,  driven  far  from  their  native 
shores,  saw  land  once  again.  The  foolish  sailors  were  glad  enough 
to  pull  the  boat  up  on  the  beach,  and  in  safety  once  more  to 
built  their  fire  and  prepare  a  comfortable  meal. 

Many  days  and  years  went  by  before  Odysseus  at  last  reached 
his  home.  He  had  many  adventures  after  this,  but  when  he 
dwelt  in  peace  and  quiet  at  last,  in  the  home  from  which  he  had 
been  absent  so  long,  he  was  always  fond  of  telling  the  story  of 
the  bag  of  winds  given  him  by  King  ^olus,  and  of  the  great 
disaster  brought  upon  his  sailors  and  himself  by  their  foolish 
curiosity. 

F.  H. 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  71- 

The  North  Wind  at  Play^ 

{From  the  German.^ 

Once  upon  a  time,  in  a  house  under  a  hill,  lived  -^olus  and 
his  four  sons :  North  Wind,  South  Wind,  East  Wind  and  West 
Wind. 

One  day  North  Wind  said  to  his  father:  **May  I  go  out 
to  play?  '' 

**0h,  yes !  "  said  his  father,  **if  you  don't  stay  too  long." 

Then  away   ran   North   Wind  with  a  merry  shout  and  song 
banging  the  door  behind  him. 

As  he  ran  along  the  road  he  saw  in  the  orchard  a  beautiful  tree 
upon  which  were  green  apples. 

**0h!  come  and  play  with  me,"  said  North  Wind.  ''Come 
and  play  with  me  !  " 

**0h,  no  !  "  said  the  tree  ;  *'  I  must  stay  quite  still  and  help 
the  apples  to  grow,  else  they  will  not  be  large  and  round  and  red 
in  the  autumn  for  the  little  children.  Oh,  no,  North  Wind,  I 
cannot  go." 

**Puff !  "  said  the  North  Wind — and  down  all  the  apples  fell 
to  the  ground. 

The  next  thing  North  Wind  saw  was  a  beautiful  waving  field 
of  com. 

"  Oh  !  come  and  play  with  me  !  Oh  !  come  and  play  with  me  !  " 
said  North  Wind. 

**No,  no!"  said  the  corn;  **I  must  stand  quite  still  and 
grow.  If  you  will  look  under  this  beautiful  green  silk  you  will 
see  some  little  kernels  lying.  These  must  grow  big  and  yellow 
to  be  ground  into  meal  to  make  golden  pudding  for  the  children. 
So  you  see  I  cannot  go  to  play." 

At  this  the  North  Wind  sighed — *' Ah-ha-a-a  !  "  and  the  corn 
lay  down  on  the  ground. 

Rimning  along,  North  Wind  saw  a  lily  growing  under  a 
window. 

*'0h,  you  lovely  lily!  come  and  play  with  me,"  said  North 
Wind. 

'*I  cannot,"  said  the  lily,  gently  ;  *'I  have  to  stay  here  because 
the  farmer's  little  girl  is  not  at  all  well,  and  I  am  her  friend,  and 


72  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

every  morning  she  comes  and  smiles  down  at  me  and  I  smile 
back  again.  I  am  sure  she  would  miss  me  very  much  if  I  should 
go  ;  so  I  must  stay  here,  dear  North  Wind." 

North  Wind  touched  her  very  gently, — but  she  hung  her  head 
and  never  again  looked  up. 

Now  the  farmer  went  out  to  work,  and  when  he  saw  the  corn 
and  the  apple  tree,  he  said:  **Ah!  Mr.  North  Wind  has  been 
here  ! "  But  when  he  went  home,  his  little  girl  told  him  about 
the  lily.  And  the  farmer  said  :  "  I'll  go  right  up  to  Mr.  ^olus 
and  tell  him  all  about  it !  " 

So  away  he  went;  and  he  said:  ''Good  morning,  Mr.  ^olus. 
Your  boy.  North  Wind,  has  been  down  my  way ;  and  he  has 
blown  the  apples  from  the  trees,  and  the  corn  is  lying  down  on 
the  ground;  but,  worse  than  this,  he  has  hurt  my  little  girl's 
lily!" 

''Ah !  "  said  Mr.  ^olus,  "  I  am  very  sorry.  I  will  speak  to 
North  Wind  when  he  comes  in."  And  then  the  farmer  went 
home. 

By  and  by  in  came  North  Wind. 

"My  boy,"  said  ^olus,  "the  farmer  has  been  here,  and  he 
has  told  me  all  the  harm  which  you  have  done."  And  then  the 
father  told  North  Wind  the  story  of  the  apples  and  the  corn  and 
the  lily. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  North  Wind,  "  I  know  I  did  it ;  but  I  didn't 
mean  to.  I  just  meant  to  have  a  little  fun  with  the  apple  tree  ; 
but  when  I  said  '  Puff-f-f  all  the  apples  fell  down  !  And  it  was 
just  the  same  with  the  corn ;  it  lay  down  before  I  knew  that  I 
had  hurt  it.  As  for  the  lily,  that  was  the  loveliest  thing  you  ever 
saw,  father  ;  I  only  kissed  it  when  I  came  away." 

"I  believe  that  what  you  tell  me  is  true,  my  boy;  but  if  you 
cannot  help  being  so  rough  and  rude  when  you  play,  you  must 
go  out  only  when  the  farmer  has  gathered  the  apples  and  corn, 
and  when  the  flowers  have  been  taken  safely  into  the  house. 
When  the  snow  is  on  the  ground,  you  and  Jack  Frost  may  have 
fine  frolics  together." 

As  told  by  HARRIET  Ryan. 


THE  PIGEONS. 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

In  "  Birds  of  America  " — Audubon's  wonderful  book — may  be  found  de- 
tailed descriptions  of  all  the  doves  and  pigeons  known.  Much  of  this  detailed 
description  does  not  concern  us;  but  I  have  gleaned  a  few  facts  which  may  not 
be  too  familiar  to  us  all. 

The  pigeon  or  dove  almost  invariably  builds  a  loose,  exposed  nest,  out  of 
which  eggs  and  birds  often  drop.  Many  pigeons  will  build  nests  in  the  same 
tree;  doves  will  not.  This  seems  to  be  the  only  difference  noted  between 
pigeons  and  doves. 

Some  doves  are  found  only  in  the  tropics.  The  California  dove  is  found  from 
Louisiana  to  Middle  Massachusetts;  while  the  Passenger  pigeon  lives  every- 
where in  the  United  States  except  the  southern  tip  of  Florida,  and  is  well 
known  in  Newfoundland. 

The  average  speed  of  the  Passenger  pigeon  is  a  mile  a  minute;  and  it  has 
equally  remarkable  power  of  vision,  as  shown  from  its  sighting  food  from  im- 
mense distances. 

From  fifty  to  one  hundred  or  more  nests  are  often  found  in  one  tree. 

Audubon  says  that  the  constancy  and  devotion  of  the  dove  to  its  mate  and  its 
young  are  not  excelled  by  any  other  creatures;  so  that  we  rightly  use  this  beau- 
tiful bird  as  the  emblem  of  love  and  gentleness. 


THE  TALK. 


(Points  of  connection  between  this  subject  and  the  preceding 
ones  of  *'The  Winds"  and  *' Seeds"  will  readily  suggest  them- 
selves. The  farmer  has  gathered  the  seeds  from  the  farm  and 
garden,  the  wind  has  taken  them  from  the  trees  and  plants  in 
other  places.  Cold  weather  is  coming ;  so  the  birds  have,  most 
of  them,  flown  away  to  warmer  countries  where  they  can  find  food 
in  plenty.) 

Have  the  children  seen  any  birds  lately, — canaries,  sparrows, 
■pigeons? 


74  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

Where  do  pigeons  live?  Wild  ones  in  the  woods;  build  very 
loose  nests —  (show  with  hands)  ;  tame  ones  in  a  pigeon  house  in 
the  top  of  the  barn ;  sometimes,  on  a  pole  in  the  farmyard. 

The  pigeon  lays  two  pure  white  eggs.  Can  fly  far  and  fast — 
a  mile  a  minute. 

How  does  it  sleep?     Roosts  on  a  branch,  if  wild ;  on  a  stick  in 

pigeon  house,  if  tame.     Why  does  it  not  fall  off?     Toes  hold  it 

^^  firmly.     Find   out   how  many   toes   in    front;  how 

^W^  many  behind.     Watch  the  pigeons  on  the  street,  or 

^%L  ^       ask  father  or  mother  about  it.      (Play  the  game  of 

^       the  Pigeon  House  and  talk  it  over.)     When  we  let 

the  pigeons  out  of  the  pigeon  house,  where  do  you  think  they 

will  fly?     Where  does  the  song  say  they  will  fly?     Will  they  find 

something  to  eat?     Yes ;  what  the  farmer  has  not  gathered,  and 

what  the  wind  has  dropped  and  not  covered  up — especially  seeds 

of  grains. 

What  do  you  think  they  talk  to  each  other  about  when  they 
go  home  again?  (Try  to  give  the  children  the  idea  of  sharing 
experiences.) 

What  does  the  pigeon  say?     **Coo,  coo  !" 

A  loud  noise?     No;  always  soft  and  gentle. 

Do  we  love  to  hear  the  pigeons?  Do  we  love  to  hear  people 
speak  gently? 

Whenever  we  see  the  pigeons,  or  play  **The  Pigeon  House," 
let  us  remember  how  gentle  and  loving  these  little  birds  are. 

Verse  for  Children* 

Happy  as  a  robin, 
Gentle  as  a  dove — 
That's  the  sort  of  little  child 
Every  one  will  love. 


THE  PIGEON  HOUSE. 


75 


76 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING^ 

Daddy  Darwin's  Dove  Cote, -        -       Mrs.  Ewing 

Hilda  and  the  Doves  ("Marble  Faun"),  -        _        -        -        -  Hawthorne 

The  Doves, --  Mrs.  Browning 

The  Belfry  Pigeon,  -         -      * N.  P.  Willis 

The  White  Pigeon,  -- Miss  Edgeworth 

For  the  Children. 

Birds  and  their  Nests.     From  "Kindergarten  Gems."       -        '  A.  T.  Ketchum 


STORffiS. 


The  Fantail  Pigeon^ 

"1  wonder  why  I  am  not  wise  !  "  said  the  little  white  fantail 
pigeon,  sadly.  *'It  seems  to  me  I  am  not  good  for  anything  at 
all.  The  hens  lay  eggs  for  our  mistress's  breakfast ;  the  cow  gives 
milk  to  drink  and  to  be  made  into  butter  and  cheese  ;  the  turkey- 
cock  will  be  fatted  for  Christmas,  he  says,  and  will  be  served  on 
a  big  dish,  with  a  string  of  sausages  all  round  him ;  that  will  be 
grand !  The  pigs  will  be  made  into  pork,  but  I  am  good  for 
nothing.  The  thrush  and  the  blackbird  can  sing  beautifully, 
and  the  owl  is  wiser  than  all  the  other  birds.  I  cannot  sing  and 
I  am  not  at  all  wise.  Ginger,  the  cat,  catches  the  rats  and  mice  ; 
Monarch,  the  dog,  guards  the  house.  But  I  cannot  catch  rats 
and  mice,  and  how  could  a  pigeon  keep  guard?  " 

Poor  little  white  pigeon  !  What  was  she  to  do  ?  I  am  sure  you 
must  feel  sorry  for  her.  It  is  so  very  sad  to  be  of  no  use  in  the 
world. 

**I  will  go  to  the  owl,"  said  she.  '*He  is  the  wisest  of  all  the 
birds.     Perhaps  he  will  teach  me  how  to  be  of  use." 

The  owl  lived  in  a  hollow  tree  behind  the  farmyard.  All  day 
long  he  sat  in  his  tree  and  blinked,  for  the  sunshine  hurt  his  eyes. 
That  was  because  he  was  so  wise,  the  other  birds  said.     But  when 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  77 

the  sun  went  down  and  the 'world  grew  dark  and  still  the  owl 
came  out  from  his  hollow  tree  and  flew  about.  He  had  a  hooked 
beak  and  his  eyes  were  large  and  round ;  he  looked  very  solemn 
and  severe,  as  was  proper  for  the  wisest  of  all  the  birds. 

The  white  pigeon  flew  up  to  the  hollow  tree  and  bent  her  head 
humbly  before  the  owl.  The  wise  old  bird  blinked  twice,  but 
said  nothing,  because  his  words  were  so  precious. 

**Pray,  sir,"  said  the  pigeon,  *'may  I  speak  to  you?  " 

The  owl  blinked  again,  which  if  it  did  not  mean  *'  yes,"  at  any 
rate  did  not  mean  **no."  So  the  pigeon  went  on  :  *'Sir,  you  are 
very  wise  and  I  am  very  foolish.  I  am  very  unhappy  because  I 
know  nothing  and  am  good  for  nothing.  Pease,  sir,  will  you 
help  me." 

The  owl  said  nothing  at  all  for  a  long  time.  The  little  white 
pigeon  sat  on  a  bough  and  waited.  She  said  to  herself :  **He  is 
slow,  but  that  is  certainly  because  he  is  so  kind  as  to  think  very 
hard  about  some  way  to  help  me." 

So  she  waited  patiently,  long  past  the  time  when  Jeggo  gave 
all  the  birds  in  the  farmyard  their  supper. 

Then  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  owl  opened  his  large,  round 
eyes  and  looked  at  the  little  white  pigeon. 

**  Now,"  said  she,  *'  he  is  going  to  speak ;  "  and  her  heart  beat 
fast  with  hope  and  excitement. 

'*I  am  wise,"  said  the  owl;  **you  are  foolish."  Then  he 
waited  so  long  that  the  little  pigeon  ventured  to  put  him  in  mind 
that  he  was  speaking.     *'  Yes,  sir,"  said  she  ;  **  what  can  I  do?  " 

**You  must  make  the  best  of  it,"  said  the  owl,  and  spreading 
his  large,  browny-white  wings  he  flew  away  into  the  darkness, 
calling  out:  **Too-whit,  too-whoo." 

**  He  has  certainly  much  wisdom,"  said  the  little  white  pigeon. 
**  But  I  do  not  see  what  is  the  good  of  it,  if  he  keeps  it  all  for 
himself  like  that.  I  want  to  know  how  to  make  the  best  of  it." 
And  home  she  went  again  feeling  sadder  than  ever. 

Next  day  the  little  white  pigeon  was  still  very  miserable,  and 
instead  of  flying  down  as  usual  when  her  mistress  came  into  the 
yard,  she  hid  in  a  corner  and  hung  her  head.  So  the  mistress 
went  away,  feeling  sad  and  anxious ;  for  she  thought  one  of  her 
pets  was  lost. 


78  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

Now  the  old  drake  had  a  very  kind  heart,  and  watched  over 
all  the  animals  in  the  farmyard.  He  knew  that  the  little  white 
pigeon  was  unhappy,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  find  out  what 
was  amiss,  and  set  it  right  if  possible.  He  was  a  clever  old  bird, 
and  had  seen  a  deal  of  the  world,  for  he  was  nearly  three  years 
old. 

He  sent  a  message  to  the  pigeon  to  say  he  wanted  to  see  her, 
and  she  came  at  once.  No  one  ever  thought  of  disobeying  the 
old  drake. 

**What  is  wrong  with  you,  little  pigeon?"  said  he,  kindly. 
**The  sun  shines;  peas  and  Indian  corn  are  plentiful,  and  you 
are  not  moulting ;  yet  for  three  days  you  have  done  nothing  but 
mope  and  look  miserable.  Come,  now,  and  tell  me  what  is  the 
matter." 

"I  am  of  no  use  in  the  world,"  said  the  little  pigeon,  sadly. 
*'  All  the  other  birds  and  animals  are  good  for  something,  but  I 
am  good  for  nothing." 

'*  Oh  !  silly  bird,"  said  the  old  drake.  *'  How  can  you  say  you 
are  of  no  use  in  the  world?  Everything  that  is  made  is,  and 
must  be,  of  some  use  in  the  world.  Some  are  strong  and  can  do 
much  work,  like  Short,  the  horse  who  draws  the  heavy  cart. 
Some  have  the  gift  of  teaching  others,  and  that  is  what  they  are 
good  for.  Some  have  beautiful  voices  to  listen  to,  and  others 
beautiful  feathers  to  look  at.  It  is  true  that  the  turkey  is  good 
to  eat  and  that  the  hen  can  lay  eggs ;  it  is  true  that  the  owl  is 
wise  and  the  blackbird  can  sing ;  but  which  of  them  all  has  such 
a  pretty  white  tail  and  such  nice  pink  feet  as  you?" 

**  I  forgot  all  about  my  tail,"  said  the  little  pigeon. 

**  Just  so,"  said  the  old  drake.  *'You  forgot  what  you  had, 
in  fretting  for  what  you  have  not.  Nay,  you  even  neglected 
your  gift  and  let  your  pretty  white  tail  get  all  dirty  and 
crumpled.  So  it  happened  that  our  mistress  went  away  sad  this 
morning,  because  her  little  white  bird  did  not  come  to  greet  her. 
Go  away  home,  little  pigeon,  and  do  not  be  miserable  any  more. 
Make  the  best  of  what  you  can  do,  and  never  mind  the  things 
you  cannot  do." 

Then  the  little  pigeon  thanked  the  old  drake  foj  his  good 
advice.     She  went  home  and  put  her  feathers  tidy,  and  I  need 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  79 

hardly  tell  you  that  next  day  the  mistress  did  not  look  in  vain 
for  her. pretty,  white  pet. 

Mary  Dendy. 

^^  Lesson  Stories,^''  Sunday  School  Association,  London. 


Pearl  and  Her  Pigeons^ 

When  Pearl  was  seven  years  old  her  Brother  Freddie  gave  her 
two  pretty  white  pigeons.  The  little  girl  was  as  happy  as  a  queen 
when  she  saw  her  pretty  pets.  She  named  one  Dot  and  the  other 
Phil.  Pearl  loved  dearly  to  play  with  them,  but  she  did  not  like 
to  keep  them  shut  up  in  a  cage. 

Sometimes  she  would  open  the  window  and  say  to  them :  "  Fly 
away,  my  dearies,  and  play  with  other  birds  !  I  do  not  wish  to 
keep  you  here  this  beautiful  morning."  They  would  flutter  their 
wings  joyously,  peck  her  hand,  and  make  a  funny  little  noise 
which  sounded  very  much  like  *' good-bye,  sweet  mistress  !  We 
will  return  soon,  and  tell  you  all  about  the  sunny  world,  and  what 
the  birds  are  doing." 

When  Pearl  went  out  into  the  garden  to  pull  flowers,  or  give 
her  dollies  a  ride  the  pigeons  would  come  to  her  and  light  upon 
her  head ;  and  sometimes  they  would  poke  their  bills  into  her 
mouth  for  a  kiss. 

She  fed  them  with  crumbs  from  her  hand,  and  every  morning 
she  gave  them  some  fresh,  sparkling  water  to  bathe  in. 

Phil  called  Dot  his  little  wife,  and  he  often  invited  her  to  take 
a  walk  with  him.  When  Dot  was  not  busy  she  went  with  him. 
In  the  beautiful  springtime  Dot  laid  two  white  eggs  and  sat  on 
them  till  the  wee  birds  crept  out.  Dot  and  Phil  were  as  happy 
as  they  could  be,  and  so  proud  of  their  little  family  !  Pearl  put 
crumbs  enough  for  all  beside  the  nest,  which  pleased  Mother  Dot 
very  much.  Then  she  would  sit  down  beside  the  cage  and  watch 
the  mother-pigeon  patiently  teaching  the  little  ones  to  eat. 

Pearl  often  heard  the  mother-bird  putting  her  little  family  to 
sleep  ;  and  she  would  say  to  her  darling  baby  brother :  '*  Listen, 
dear !     I  hear  the  mother-pigeon  cooing  softly  to  her  little  ones." 

Helen  A.  Keller. 


80  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


The  Constant  Dove* 

The  white  dove  sat  on  the  sunny  eaves, 

And  "  What  will  you  do  when  the  north  wind  grieves  ?  " 

She  said  to  the  busy  nut-hatch  small, 

Tapping  above  in  the  gable  tali. 

He  probed  each  crack  /vitii  his  slender  beak, 
And  much  too  busy  was  he  to  speak; 
Spiders,  that  thought  themselves  safe  and  sound, 
And  moths,  and  flies,  and  cocoons,  he  found. 

Oh!   but  the  white  dove  she  was  fair! 

Bright  she  shone  in  the  autumn  air. 

Turning  her  head  from  left  to  right — 

Only  to  watch  her  was  such  delight!  .  I 

"  Cool "  she  murmured,  "  poor  little  thing,  ■ 

"What  will  you  do  when  the  frost  shall  sting? 
Spiders  and  flies  will  be  hidden  or  dead, 
Snow  underneath  and  snow  overhead." 

Nut-hatch  paused  in  his  busy  care; 
"  And  what  will  you  do,  0  white  dove  fair?  " 
"  Kind  hands  feed  me  with  crumbs  and  grain, 

And  I  wait  with  patience  for  spring  again." 

He  laughed  so  loud  that  his  laugh  I  heard; 
"  How  can  you  be  such  a  stupid  bird? 
What  are  your  wings  for,  tell  me,  pray. 
But  to  bear  you  from  tempest  and  cold  away? 

"  Merrily  off  to  the  south  I'll  fly. 
In  search  of  the  summer,  by  and  by. 
And  warmth  and  beauty  I'll  find  anew; 
O  white  dove  fair,  will  you  follow,  too?  " 

But  she  cooed  content  on  the  sunny  eaves, 
And  looked  askance  at  the  reddening  leaves; 
While  low  I  whispered,  "  O  white  dove  true, 
I'll  feed  you,  and  love  you  the  winter  through!" 

Celia  Thaxter. 
Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


The  Dove  and  the  Ant. 

The  Ant,  compelled  by  thirst,  went  to  drink  in  a  clear,  purling 
rivulet ;  but  the  current,  with  its  circling  eddy,  snatched  her  away, 
and  carried  her  down  the  stream.     A  Dove,  pitying  her  distressed 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  81 

condition,  cropped  a  branch  from  a  neighboring  tree,  and  let  it 
fall  into  the  water,  by  means  of  which  the  Ant  saved  herself,  and 
got  ashore.  Not  long  after  a  fowler,  having  a  design  upon  th^ 
Dove,  planted  his  nets  in  due  order,  without  the  bird's  observing 
what  he  was  about ;  which  the  Ant  perceiving,  just  as  he  was 
going  to  put  his  design  in  execution,  bit  him  on  the  heel,  and 
made  him  give  so  sudden  a  start  that  the  Dove  took  the  alarm, 
and  flew  away. 

^SOP. 


A  True  Pigeon  Story^ 

A  gentleman  had  two  pairs  of  pigeons  living  in  dovecotes  placed 
side  by  side.  In  each  pigeon  family  there  was  a  father  and 
mother-bird  and  two  little  ones.  On  a  certain  day  the  parents 
in  one  dovecote  went  away  to  get  food,  and  while  they  were  gone 
one  of  their  little  birds  fell  out  of  the  dovecote  and  down  to  the 
ground.  The  poor  baby  bird  was  not  much  hurt,  strange  to  say, 
but  it  could  not  get  back  for  it  was  too  young  to  fly. 

Now  the  parents  in  the  other  dovecote  were  at  home  when  this 
happened  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  said  to  themselves  :  '*  One  of  our 
babies  might  fall  out  in  just  that  same  way.  We  must  do  some- 
thing to  make  the  dovecote  safer."  And  then  this  wise,  careful 
father  and  mother  went  to  work.  They  flew  about  until  they 
found  some  small  sticks.  These  they  carried  to  their  own  dove- 
cote and  there  in  the  doorway  they  built  a  cunning  little  fence  of 
sticks  !  Not  so  high  but  that  the  baby  pigeons  could  look  over 
it,  but  high  enough  to  keep  them  from  ever  falling  out  of  the 
dovecote  as  their  little  neighbor  had  done.  The  owner  of  the 
pigeons,  who  had  seen  the  birdling  fall  and  had  put  it  back  into 
its  dovecote,  watched  the  birds  the  whole  time  as  they  gathered 
the  sticks  and  built  the  little  fence  across  the  doorway.  This  is 
a  true  story  and  it  is  often  told  to  some  children  in  Boston  by  a 
lady  who  knows  the  owner  of  these  very  pigeons. 

M-P. 


THE  BAKER, 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

Froebel  believed  that  "  Pat-a-cake  "  and  similar  games  "  arose  because  people 
felt  that  the  cultivation  of  the  child's  love  of  activity  and  his  strivings  to  get 
the  use  of  his  limbs  ought  to  be  carried  on  in  such  a  way  as  to  lift  him  at  once 
into  the  complexity  of  his  outside  life."  Thus,  in  the  "  Pat-a-cake"  play, 
instead  of  the  simple  relation  of  need  and  supply  between  child  and  mother — 
the  child  needing  food  and  the  mother  giving  it — the  child  is  shown  another 
"link  of  the  great  chain  of  life's  inner  dependence,"  in  the  baker  who  bakes 
the  bread  and  the  cake  which  the  mother  gives  to  the  child. 

"Whenever  opportunity  occurs,"  says  Froebel,  "make  this  inner  depend- 
ence of  life  clear,  visible,  impressive,  tangible  and  perceptible  to  your  child, 
even  though  it  be  in  only  a  few  of  the  essential  links  of  this  great  chain,  until 
you  come  to  the  last  ring  that  holds  all  the  rest — God's  father-love  for  all." 

Of  course,  in  foreign  countries,  where  it  is  common  for  the  mother  to  pre- 
pare bread  and  cake,  etc.,  and  send  it  to  the  baker  to  have  it  baked,  the  rela- 
tion is  closer;  but  even  in  this  country  the  baker  is  near  to  the  child's  life. 
Food  being  a  primary  necessity,  the  baker,  the  miller  and  the  farmer  who  are 
the  providers  of  food,  are  among  the  first  of  the  world's  workers  which  the 
kindergarten  brings  to  the  child's  notice. 


THE  TALK. 

Some  of  the  children  have  dear  little  babies  in  their  homes. 
What  does  baby  play?  Does  baby  play  **  Pat-a-cake?  "  Shall 
we  play  it? 

(After  playing  baby's  *' Pat-a-cake," — the  old  Mother  Goose 
rhyme, — teach  the  children  the  kindergarten  play,  **  Now  my 
child/'  etc.,  -which  is,  after  all,  only  an  extension  of  the  same  idea 
and  principle.) 


THE  BAKER. 


84  m  THE  child's  world. 

Recall  a  little  of  the  talk  with  the  children  about  the  pigeons, 
and  speak  especially  about  the  food.  The  point  to  be  brought 
oput  is  that  the  pigeon's  food  is  ready  for  it,  whereas  the  child's 
food,  our  food,  must  generally  be  prepared. 

The  pigeon  likes  grains  of  wheat.  Do  we  like  grains  of  wheat? 
Tell  some  of  the  things  we  do  like  to  eat ;  meat,  potatoes,  bread, 
etc.,  etc.  Where  does  the  bread  come  from?  From  the  baker. 
Where  did  the  baker  get  his  flour?  From  the  miller.  Where 
did  the  miller  get  the  wheat  to  grind?  From  the  farmer.  So 
the  story  of  the  bread  is  quite  a  long  story,  isn't  it?  And  tells  of 
a  great  many  workers. 

Sometimes  the  mother  makes  the  bread  instead  of  buying  it  at 
the  baker's.  Have  any  of  the  children  seen  their  mothers  make 
bread?     Who  can  tell  how  she  does  it,  and  what  she  uses? 

What  kind  of  an  oven  does  she  bake  the  bread  in?  Have  the 
children  ever  been  to  a  baker's  shop  ?  What  does  the  baker  make  ? 
What  kind  of  an  oven  does  he  have  ?  A  very,  very  large  one  ;  as 
large  as  a  small  room  (eight  feet  by  ten  feet) .  He  uses  something 
like  a  big  shovel  with  a  long  handle  when  he  puts  the  loaves  into 
the  oven  or  takes  them  out.  The  baker  also  uses  a  large  mixing 
trough  instead  of  a  bread  pan ;  long,  smooth  table  instead  of  bread 
board;  rolling  pins,  cooky  cutters,  baking  tins,  etc.,  etc. 

The  baker  must  build  a  fire  and  heat  his  oven  before  the  bread 
can  be  baked. 

(Speak  a  little  upon  the  usefulness  of  fire.  If  advisable,  more 
links  of  the  chain  of  dependence  could  be  disclosed  here,  in  the 
wood  chopper  and  the  miner  whose  work  prepares  the  wood  and 
coal  for  the  baking  of  the  bread.) 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  8S 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Each  and  All, -        -        -        -  R.  W.  Emerson 

Daily  Bread,  (Sermon  1879), E.  E.  Hale 

Daily  Bread,  (Stories),     -  E.  E.  Hale 

For  the  Children* 

^?^T^-*.!7*^*' 1,-    -o        1      ("Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning 

The  fiike" ,  ^^'  J  "^^^^^  "5' ^'^'  ^"^'' 


STORffiS- 

The  Johnny  Cake. 

Little  Sarah,  she  stood  by  her  grandmother's  bed, 
"  And  what  shall  I  get  for  your  breakfast?  "  she  said. 
•*  You  shall  get  me  a  johnny  cake;  quickly  go  make  it, 

In  one  minute  mix,  and  in  two  minutes  bake  it." 

So  Sarah,  she  went  to  the  closet  to  see 

If  yet  any  meal  in  the  barrel  might  be. 

The  barrel  had  long  time  been  empty  as  wind: 

Not  a  speck  of  the  bright  yellow  meal  could  she  find. 

But  grandmother's  johnny  cake — still  she  must  make  it. 

In  one  minute  mix,  and  in  two  minutes  bake  it. 

She  ran  to  the  shop,  but  the  shopkeeper  said, 
"  I  have  none — you  must  go  to  the  miller,  fair  maid. 
For  he  has  a  mill,  and  he'll  put  the  corn  in  it. 
And  grind  you  some  nice  yellow  meal  in  a  minute; 
But  run,  or  the  johnny  cake,  how  will  you  make  it, 
In  one  minute  mix,  and  in  two  minutes  bake  it.** " 

Then  Sarah,  she  ran  every  step  of  the  way, 
But  the  miller  said,  "  No,  I  have  no  meal  to-day; 
Run,  quick,  to  the  cornfield,  just  over  the  hill, 
And  if  any  be  there,  you  may  fetch  it  to  mill. 
Run,  run,  or  the  johnny  cake,  how  will  you  make  it. 
In  one  minute  mix,  and  in  two  minutes  bake  it.?  " 


86  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 


Then  Sarah  looked  round,  and  she  saw  what  was  wanted: 
The  corn  could  not  grow,  for  no  corn  had  been  planted. 
She  asked  of  the  farmer  to  sow  her  some  grain, 
But  the  farmer  he  laughed  till  his  sides  ached  again. 
"Ho!   ho!   for  the  johnny  cake — how  can  you  make  it, 
In  one  minute  mix,  and  in  two  minutes  bake  it?  " 

The  farmer  he  laughed,  and  he  laughed  out  aloud — 
"  And  how  can  I  plant  till  the  earth  has  been  plowed?     . 
Run,  run  to  the  ploughman,  and  bring  him  with  speed; 
He'll  plough  up  the  ground,  and  I'll  fill  it  with  seed." 
Away,  then,  ran  Sarah,  still  hoping  to  make  it. 
In  one  minute  mix,  and  in  two  minutes  bake  it. 

The  ploughman  he  ploughed,  and  the  grain  it  was  sown, 
And  the  sun  shed  his  rays  till  the  corn  was  all  grown. 
It  was  ground  at  the  mill,  and  again  in  her  bed 
These  words  to  poor  Sarah  the  grandmother  said: 
"  You  shall  get  me  a  johnny  cake,  quickly  go  make  it, 


Anonymous. 


The  China  Rabbit  Family* 

Mrs.  China  Rabbit  and  her  four  little  rabbits  were  very  much 
crowded.  They  lived  in  a  small  pasteboard  box,  and  there  was 
scarcely  room  for  their  legs  and  paws.  As  for  their  long  ears- 
why,  Mrs.  China  Rabbit  and  Hoppit  actually  had  to  poke  theirs 
through  the  broken  corners  of  the  top  ! 

**Be  patient,  my  children,"  the  mother  would  say.  '*This 
cannot  last  always ;  and  we  ought  to  be  thankful  that  we  have 
this  soft  cotton  to  lie  on,  at  any  rate." 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  little  China  Rabbits  grumbled.  How 
would  you  like  to  live  in  a  house  so  small  that  you  had  to  lie 
just  the  way  you  would  fit  in  best,  whether  it  was  comfortable 
ornot? 

The  shabby  pasteboard  box  filled  with  the  China  Rabbits  was 
in  a  toy  shop.  Furthermore,  the  toy  shop  was  near  Baby  Bun's 
house.  More  than  that.  Baby  Bun's  mamma  went  into  the  toy 
shop  one  day.  And,  best  of  all,  she  bought  the  whole  China 
Rabbit  family ! 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD  87 

When  she  reached  home  she  gave  them  to  the  cook ;  and  the 
cook  smilled  and  nodded,  and  said:  *'0h,  yes'm !  I'll  do  it 
with  pleasure  for  the  little  boy,  bless  his  heart !  "  and  she  imme- 
diately went  to  work  to  bake  a  cake. 

Mrs.  China  Rabbit  and  Hoppit  and  the  other  China  Rabbits 
were  soon  taken  out  of  their  crowded  house.  The  cook  gave 
them  a  good  bath,  and  then  she  put  each  in  a  bed  of  cake  dough, 
in  a  tiny  tin,  and  set  all  the  tins  in  the  oven. 

When  the  oven  door  was  shut,  and  the  cook  could  not  hear. 
Mrs.  China  Rabbit  called  out :   *' Hoppit,  my  child  !  " 

*'Here  I  am,  mother!"  said  Hoppit.  **Is  Chubby  here?" 
said  Mrs.  China  Rabbit.     **  Yes,  here  I  am,"  said  Chubby. 

**  And  Johnny  Jumper?"  **  Yes,"  Johnny  Jumper  answered, 
and  so  also  did  Tiny,  the  baby. 

*'  This  is  well,"  said  Mrs.  China  Ra.bbit.  **  Are  you  all  com- 
fortable?" 

**0h  !  it  is  delightful !  "  said  the  children. 

As  the  cakes  began  to  bake,  however,  Mrs.  China  Rabbit  and 
the  children  found  it  rather  warm.  They  had  never  felt  such 
heat.  They  almost  wished  themselves  back  in  the  pasteboard 
box.     **For,  at  least,  the  ventilation  was  good  !  "  gasped  Hoppit. 

Just  as  they  thought  they  womd  die  of  the  heat,  the  oven  door 
opened  with  a  clang.  *' They're  just  done  beautiful!"  they 
heard  the  cook  say,  and  soon  all  the  little  cakes  were  cooling  on 
the  pantry  shelf,  and  the  China  Rabbit  family  quickly  revived. 

**  Shall  we  live  here  always,  mother?  "  asked  Chubby. 

**  I  do  not  know,  my  dear",  said  Mrs.  China  Rabbit ;  **  but  let 
us  enjoy  it  while  we  may.     These  are  sweet  little  homes." 

*'Yes,  I've  tasted  mine,"  said  Johnny  Jumper,  smacking 
his  lips. 

At  this  all  the  China  Rabbits  began  to  nibble  the  cake.  **No 
one  will  grudge  us  a  little  lunch,  I  am  sure,"  the  mother  said. 

Very  soon  the  cook  put  the  ca,kes  on  a  pretty  plate  and  sent 
them  to  the  nursery.  Baby  and  his  brothers  and  sisters  were 
having  a  tea  party  ;  and  when  the  children  had  eaten  their  bread 
and  butter,  they  each  had  one  of  the  **fairy  cakes,"  as  Baby's 
mamma  called  them. 

'*0h!  there's  something  hard  in  my  cake  !"  said  Baby,  who 


88  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

had  taken  a  big  bite.     *'  So  there  is  in  mine  !  "     **  And  mine  !  " 
"And  mine  !  "  shouted  the  other  children. 

You  know  what  they  had  found,  don't  you? 

Yes !  Of  course  it  was  Mrs.  China  Rabbit,  and  Hoppit,  and 
Chubby,  and  Johnny  Jumper,  and  Tiny  I  And  the  China  Rabbit 
family  lived  happily  ever  after  among  the  other  playthings  in  the 
nursery  toy  closet. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


Tcddy^s  Birthday  Gikc* 

Outline  for  Simple  Story. 

Teddy's  birthday — little  friends  invited.  Mamma's  plan  of 
birthday  cake,  with  as  many  candles  on  it  as  Teddy  is  years  old. 
Eggs,  flour,  butter,  sugar,  milk,  all  ready  to  mix.  Mamma  looks 
at  oven,  finds  stove  broken  so  that  oven  could  not  bake  the  cake 
nicely.  Is  puzzled  to  know  what  to  do ;  cannot  bear  to  disappoint 
Teddy ;  thinks  of  the  baker,  mixes  cake  and  takes  it  to  the  bakery. 
Leaves  it ;  baker  watches  it  as  it  bakes,  takes  it  out  with  his  long 
shovel.  When  mamma  goes  to  th©  bakery  for  it,  she  pays  and 
thanks  the  baker.  Enjoyment  of  the  cake.  Mamma  tells  how 
the  kind  baker  helped  her  out  of  her  trouble. 

E.  P. 


Nero  at  the  Bakery* 

**  There  ! "  said  the  Baker,  as  he  took  the  last  loaf  of  bread  out 
of  the  oven,  **  that's  as  handsome  a  batch  of  bread  as  ever  was 
baked.     I'll  take  it  right  upstairs  to  the  store." 

Very  soon  little  Sophie  came  into  the  bakery  and  said,  "My 
mother  wants  a  loaf  of  fresh  bread,  please." 

"Here  it  is,"  said  the  Baker,  "just  fresh  from  the  oven.  It 
will  keep  your  hands  warm  all  the  way  home."  So  saying  he 
wrapped  the  bread  in  a  brown  paper  and  handed  it  to  the  little 
girl,  who  then  gave  him  the  money  for  it. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  89 

As  she  door  opened  to  go  oirt,  a  big  dog  walked  in, — a  great 
shaggy  fellow  with  a  basket  in  his  mouth.  He  was  all  alone,  but 
he  evidently  knew  just  what  to  do.  Sophie  stopped  to  look,  for 
she  had  never  known  a  dog  to  go  to  the  store  before. 

**Why,  here  is  Nero!  Good  dog  !  Good  Nero  !'*  said  the 
Baker.     **Have  you  come  for  the  bread?  *' 

Nero  walked  to  the  Baker  and  held  his  head  up,  as  if  to  offer 
the  basket.  In  the  basket  was  the  money  for  a  loaf  of  bread. 
The  Baker  put  the  money  in  the  money  drawer  and  then  waited  to 
see  what  the  dog  would  do. 

Nero  looked  at  him  as  if  surprised,  and  then  gave  a  sharp 
*' Bow-wow!" 

**  Well,  it  is  too  bad  to  tease  such  a  good  dog  as  you  are — 
here's  your  bread,"  said  the  Baker,  taking  down  a  loaf.  He 
wrapped  it  in  paper  and  placed  it  in  the  basket  and  the  dog 
wagged  his  tail  with  delight.  Then,  taking  his  basket  again, 
he  stalked  out  of  the  door  which  Sophie  held  open  and  walked 
up  the  street.  Sophie's  home  lay  in  the  same  direction,  so  she 
walked  on  behind  Nero  and  saw  him  walk  steadily  along  and 
then  cross  the  street  and  go  into  a  house  where  a  lady  was 
watching  for  him. 

**  Guess  what  I  saw  at  the  bakery!"  said  Sophie  when  she 
reached  home.  Her  mother  and  father  and  the  children  guessed 
and  guessed.  Pies,  cakes,  cookies,  rolls,  biscuits,  doughnuts, 
buns,  gingerbread,  gingerbread  men,  muffins — yes,  Sophie  had 
seen  all  these,  but  they  were  not  what  she  meant.  At  last  when 
all  the  things  usually  seen  in  a  bakery  had  been  guessed,  Sophie 
told  about  Nero,  the  clever  dog  who  had  bought  a  loaf  of  bread. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


THANKSGIVING  DAY, 

To  THE  Teacher: — 

This  subject  has  many  important  sides.  It  is  a  harvest  feast,  a  day  for 
giving  thanks,  a  festival  of  family  reunions,  a  day  of  interesting  historical 
origin,  a  purely  American  holiday  and  therefore  a  time  for  instilling  and  culti- 
vating patriotic  feeling. 

Can  we  compass  all  these  aspects  of  the  subject  with  the  children?  Surely 
not,  if  we  depend  on  the  morning  talk  and  story  alone,  or  if  we  have  not  pre- 
pared the  way.  But  the  farmer  and  the  harvest  are  already  familiar;  the 
children's  hearts  and  voices  are  attuned  to  hymns  of  gratitude  and  songs  of 
family  love;  and  we  have  worked  toward  patriotism  by  taking  loving  notice  of 
our  beautiful  flag,  by  singing  "  My  Country,  'tis  of  Thee,"  cheering  the  red, 
white  and  blue,  etc.  Therefore  the  many-sidedness  of  the  subject  is  not  so 
much  an  objection  as  might  at  first  appear,  but  rather  offers  a  valuable  oppor- 
tunity for  recalling  and  deepening  impressions; — each  teacher  emphasizing 
particularly  that  aspect  of  the  subject  which  is  most  desirable  for  her  pupils. 

The  Thanksgiving  Day  of  the  Pilgrims,  with  the  Indians  sharing  their  feast, 
is  a  beautiful  story;  but  it  is  so  admirably  told  in  "  The  Story  Hour,"  of  which 
Mrs.  Wiggin  and  Miss  Smith  are  the  authors,  that  I  have  not  attempted  to 
retell  it;  but  have  chosen  instead  the  local  story*,  which  may  rot  be  quite  so 
well  known,  although  Mr.  Hale  has  toJd  it  in  his  own  delightful  fashion  in  his 
church  in  Boston  on  Thanksgiving  Day. 


THE  TALK. 


Do  you  remember  that  the  baker  was  the  worker  we  talked  of 
last  week?     What  other  workers  can  you  name? 

What  did  the  farmer  do  in  the  autumn?     Gathered  seeds  to 


*"  '  The  Governor,'  says  Mather, '  v/as  the  Joseph  unto  whom  the  whole  body 
of  the  people  repaired  when  the  corn  failed  them,  and  he  continued  relieving 
of  them  with  his  open-handed  bounties  as  long  as  he  had  any  stock.'  When 
his  last  batch  of  bread  was  in  his  oven  he  gave  '  the  last  handful  of  meal  in  his 
barrel  to  a  poor  man  depressed  by  the  wolf  at  the  door.'  At  that  moment  they 
*  spied  a  ship  arrived  at  the  harbor's  mouth  laden  with  provisions  for  them  all.' 
A  day  of  thanksgiving  for  this  ship's  arrival  was  held  on  the  22d  of  February— 
the  first  Thanksgiving  Day  recorded  by  the  Puritans  of  the  Bay  colony." 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  91 

save  for  next  year ;  yes,  and  gathered  in  his  harvest.  (Children 
name  seeds;  and  name  fruits,  and  vegetables,  etc.,  harvested  for 
winter.) 

How  happy  and  thankful  the  farmer  feels  when  he  thinks  of 
his  cellar  stored  with  apples,  potatoes,  etc.,  for  his  family  all 
winter ;  and  of  his  barns  full  of  hay  and  oats  and  com,  etc.,  for 
the  animals.  And  because  harvest  time  brings  all  these  things, 
and  is  so  joyful,  people  thought  it  would  be  the  best  time  to  have 
a  special  day  for  giving  thanks  to  God. 

Now  let  us  sing  the  Thanksgiving  song,  and  play  that  this  is 
Thanksgiving  Day  and  that  we  are  all  at  grandmother's  house. 

How  glad  we  are  to  see  her  and  grandfather  and  all  the  uncles 
and  aunts  and  cousins  !  We  run  into  the  kitchen  and  peep  into 
the  big  oven — an  old-fashioned  one,  very  much  like  the  one  the 
baker  has.  Oh  !  how  good  everything  smells  !  And  there  is  the 
big  turkey! — isn't  he  a  monster?  What  else  is  being  prepared 
for  dinner? 

(Children  always  sing  with  unction : — 

"  Hurrah  for  the  fun, 
Is  the  pudding  done? 
Hurrah  for  the  pumpkin  pie !  " 

But  we  do  not  want  them  to  think  of  the  good  things  merely  as 
eatables.  A  hint  of  the  right  way  to  talk  of  the  dinner  is  found  in 
the  fact  that  the  Thanksgiving  feast  was  formerly  intended  to  show 
forth  some  of  everything  that  had  been  raised  on  the  farm,  thus 
representing  the  bounteousness  of  the  whole  harvest  for  which 
the  thanks  were  given.) 

Soon  we  go  to  church.  We  sit  nicely  and  do  not  talk,  and  we 
sing  as  well  as  we  can.  (Sing  some  song  expressing  thanks. 
This  will  be  the  time  to  make  '*the  spiritual  meaning  of  the 
day  bright  and  clear.''  Direct  the  children's  thoughts  to  causes 
for  thankfulness — universal  and  special — and  to  showing  thank- 
fulness by  deed  as  well  as  by  word. 

When  the  regular  playtime  comes,  let  it  be  the  afternoon  merry- 
making at  grandmother's.) 


92 


IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 


Pilgrims  and  Puritans,  ---------  Moore 

Customs  and  Fashions  of  Old  New  England  f  Chapter  IX)       Alice  Morse  Earle 
Things  that  Hinder  Thankfulness  (Sermon),         -        -  Minot  J.  Savage 

Love  of  Country  (  ''Great  Thoughts  for  Little  Think'  s  "),  -      Lucia  T.  Ames 
The  Pilgrim  Fathers,    ---------        Hemans 

"Come,  Ye  Thankful  People,  Come,"  .         .         .        -        .  ^iymn 

For  an  Autumn  Festival,       ---..-•-  Whittier 

The  Pumpkin, Whittier 

A  Tardy  Thanksgiving,        -        -        -         -         -        -        -       M.  E.   Wilkins 

Getting  Ready  for  Thanksgiving,  ...         -        St.  Nicholas,  1 879 

Peter  Crisp's  Spectacles  ("New  Lights  on  Old  Paths"),     -    -    Charles  Foster 

For  the  Children. 

The  First  Thanksgiving  Day  ("The  Story  Hour"),         -  Nora  A.    Smith 

Thanksgiving  Story  ("Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning 

Talks"), ^'B.  Wiltse 

Peggy's  Thanksgiving  Visitor  (  "  Stories  for  Kindergarten 

and  Home"), M.  L.  Van  Kirk 

Chusey,   the    Thanksgiving     Turkey      (A    New     Year's 

Bargain), Susan  Coolidgt 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


93 


STORffiS. 


A  Boston  Thanksgiving  Story^ 

Once  upon  a  time  Boston,  and 
indeed  this  whole  land,  was  covered 
with  trees  instead  of  houses ;  and 
there  were  no  streets,  no  stores,  no 
churches,  no  big  buildings  of  any- 
kind.  Yet  people  lived  here — In- 
dians— who  loved  to  live  in  the 
woods.  There  were  no  carpenters 
among  the  Indians,  so  they  did  not 
build  real  houses,  but  had  tents  or 
wigwams. 

By  and  by  some  people  like  us 
came  to  this  land ;  but  as  they  came 
in  winter  the  farmers  could  not  plant 
anything,  the  ground  being  frozen;  and  so  the  miller  had  no 
wheat  to  grind  into  flour,  and  the  baker  had  no  flour  to  make 
bread  of,  and  there  was  very  little  for  the  people  to  eat.  They 
had  fish,  and  clams,  and  such  things,  but  often  had  to  go  hungry. 
A  ship,  which  they  had  sent  across  the  great  ocean  to  bring  them 
more  provisions,  had  been  gone  so  long  that  it  seemed  as  if  it 
must  be  lost ;  and  the  poor,  hungry  people  did  not  know  what 
they  should  do. 

One  day  some  of  the  little  South  Boston  boys  were  at  play  on 
a  hill  near  the  water,  and  they  saw  a  ship  sailing  toward  the 
land.  They  knew  that  the  ship  would  bring  plenty  of  food  for 
all  the  hungry  people,  so  away  they  ran  to  tell  their  fathers  and 
mothers  and  the  neighbors  about  it.  Can't  you  imagine  how 
glad  they  were  to  spread  such  joyful  news?  Very  soon  the  ship 
came  to  shore  and  was  unloaded.  (Let  the  children  tell  what 
the  ship  probably  brought,  and  get  them  to  imagine  how  busy 
the  mothers  were,  cooking  and  baking  for  the  hungry  people  ; 
and  how  glad  they  all  were  to  have  enough  to  eat  again.) 


94  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

Yes  !  the  people  were  so  glad  that  they  wanted  to  thank  the 
Heavenly  Father ;  and  they  said  :  **  Let  us  have  a  day  for  giving 
thanks."  So  they  had  a  Thanksgiving  Day.  They  went  to 
church  and  thanked  God  for  all  his  goodness,  and  then  had  a  joy- 
ful time  at  home. 

Other  people  who  had  come  to  America  had  special  days  for 
giving  thanks ;  they  finally  all  agreed  to  keep  the  same  day. 
And  so  for  a  long  time  we  have  had  the  one  general  Thanks- 
giving Day  over  the  whole  land. 

E.  P. 


How  Patty  Gave  Thanks. 

Ah !  how  snug  it  was  in  the  barn  that  cold  November  night ! 
Farmer  Gray  shut  all  the  doors  as  if  it  were  winter  weather,  and 
then  went  away  glad  to  think  that  the  animals  were  warm  and  com- 
fortable for  the  night.  No  sooner  had  the  sound  of  his  foot- 
steps died  away  than  a  Cow  raised  her  head  and  gave  a  faint 
bellow. 

**News!"  said  she,  "News!  Something  beautiful  happened 
to  me  to-day.  It  was  just  before  I  was  turned  out  into  the  field 
this  morning.  Little  Patty  came  running  up  to  me  and  began 
to  stroke  my  forehead.  *  You  good  old  cow  !  '  said  she  ;  *I  had 
some  milk  to  drink  at  breakfast  and  I  know  who  gave  it  to  me, 
and  so  I  have  come  to  say  thank  you.  Mother  told  me  this 
morning  that  this  was  **Thank-you"  day;'  and  then  the  dear 
child  put  a  delicious  apple  into  my  mouth  and  laughed  to  hear 
me  crunch  it !  I  am  so  glad  that  my  milk  is  good  and  rich. 
And  she  thanked  me  for  butter  and  cream  and  for  her  papa's 
cheese,  too, — the  grateful  child  !  " 

"You  say  well.  Neighbor  Cow;  a  grateful  child  she  is,"  said 
the  farm  Horse.  "  I  was  in  the  stall  just  before  they  harnessed 
me  to  take  the  family  to  church,  and  little  Patty  came  to  see 
me,  too ;  and  she  thanked  me  for  all  the  rides  she  had  had  on  my 
back  and  in  the  haycart,  and  for  dragging  the  plough  and  for 
bringing  the  flour  from  the  mill.  Then,  bless  her  heart !  she 
reached  up  and  gave  me  a  big  mouthful  of  sweet-smelling  hay 
I  tell  yo\i,  I'll  trot  my  prettiest  the  next  time  I  have  her  in  the 


PATTY  THANKING  CX.D  BOB. 


95 


96  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

carriage  !  "  Bob  gave  a  pleased  •whinny  as  he  said  this,  and,  as 
if  in  response,  a  noise  came  from  the  sheep  barn.  The  sheep 
bam  joined  the  larger  bam,  and  at  the  doorway  between  stood  a 
mild-faced  Sheep,  who  began  to  speak  in  her  own  way. 

**So  little  Patty  went  to  you,  too,  did  she?  I  can  tell  you  I 
was  surprised  when  she  brought  me  and  the  rest  of  the  flock  an 
extra  dish  of  salt  this  morning.  *This  is  to  say,  thank  you, 
good  Sheep,'  said  she.  *  We  talked  about  you  in  the  kinder- 
garten and  I  know  that  our  worsted  balls  are  made  of  your  wool, 
and  my  new  mittens,  and  my  flannel  petticoat,  and  my  winter 
coat  and  dress,  and  Jackie's  clothes,  and  the  blankets — and  oh, 
so  many  things  !  How  funny  you  would  look  with  them  all  on 
your  back  ! '  Then  she  felt  of  my  wool  and  patted  me  with  her 
gentle  little  hand.  I  do  hope  that  my  fleece  will  be  a  good 
heavy  one  this  year,  and  how  I  wish  that  the  wool  might  be  used 
for  little  Patty  ! " 

"Well,  well!  "  said  the  Cow,  **the  child  did  make  it  a  real 
*Thank-you  day,'  I  am  sure  ;  for  besides  thankmg  me,  and  you, 
Bob,  and  you,  Mrs.  Fleecy,  I  heard  the  Hens  saying  to-day  that 
she  has  been  showering  corn  down  for  them  by  the  double 
handful  and  saying  *  thank  you '  for  the  eggs  which  they  had 
given  her.  She  told  them  that  she  l^ked  the  eggs  for  break- 
fast, and  that  her  mamma  made  cake  with  them,  too.  I  wonder 
what  put  it  into  her  head  to  come  dnd  thank  us  all." 

**It  was  her  good  little  heart  that  put  it  into  her  head,"  said 
Bob,  wisely ;  **  and  I  think  2  know  the  reason  why  she  came  to- 
day, for  as  I  was  trotting  along  the  road  to  and  from  church  I 
heard  the  family  talking  a  good  deal  about  to-day  being  Thanks- 
giving Day.  And  when  Patty's  grandpapa  asked  her  if  she 
knew  why  Thanksgiving  Day  was  kept,  she  said  :  *  Oh,  yes  !  It 
is  the  day  to  say  ** thank  you"  for  everything,  and  that  is  why  I 
hurried  out  to  the  barn  this  morning.'  " 

"And  to  whom  did  you  say  *  thank  you'  out  there  ^"  asked 
her  grandpapa. 

"Why,  to  all  of  them,"  answered  Patty ;  " to  Bob  and  Moolly 
cow,  and  the  sheep  and  the  hens." 

"Very  good,"  said  Grandpapa,  "very  good  indeed,  little 
Thankful- heart.     I  am  glad  you  thought    of    the   kind,   useful 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  97 

creatures  from  whom  we  get  so  many  things   for  our  pleasure 
and  comfort." 

As  Bob  repeated  what  Patty's  grandpapa  had  said,  sober  Mrs. 
Fleecy  gave  a  little  caper  of  delight,  and  MooUy  cow  heaved  a 
sigh  of  deep  satisfaction.  Kind,  grateful  words  are  pleasant  to 
any  ears. 

It  was  now  bedtime  and  the  animals  began  to  settle  them- 
selves for  their  night's  rest.  Mrs.  Fleecy  went  back  to  her  woolly 
companions  in  the  sheep  bam ;  MooUy  cow  sank  down  restfuUy 
in  her  stall ;  and  Bob,  after  stamping  and  tramping  a  few  times, 
bent  his  long  legs  under  him  and  lay  down  upon  his  fresh  straw 
bedding.  But  before  they  went  to  sleep  they  spoke  again  of 
how  happy  dear  little  Patty  had  made  them  with  her  thanks  and 
her  gifts. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


A  Momingf  Thanks§fivingf« 

For  this  new  morning  with  its  light, 
For  rest  and  shelter  of  the  night, 
For  health  and  food,  for  love  and  friends, 
For  everything  his  goodness  sends, 
We  thank  the  Heavenly  Father. 

M.  J.  Garland. 


WINTER, 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


In  this  talk  we  consider  the -seasons,  the  action  of  cold  (personified  as  Jack 
Frost)  and  preparation  for  winter. 

For  further  matter  on  the  subject  of  crystallization,  see  the  story  of  "Snow- 
flakes." 


THE  TALK^ 

What  day  of  the  week  is  to-day?  What  month  is  it?  Proba- 
bly few  if  any  of  the  children  will  be  able  to  tell.  Is  it  summer? 
No,  summer  is  past.  (Children  tell  some  of  the  characteristics 
of  summer — hot  weather,  much  sunshine,  flowers,  grass,  birds, 
bees,  butterflies,  everything  growing.) 

Is  it  autumn?  Just  the  very  end  of  autumn.  (Children  tell 
characteristics  of  autumn — cold  weather,  falling  leaves,  birds 
flying  to  warmer  countries,  etc.) 

And  now  winter  is  coming.  (Children  tell  characteristics  of 
winter — bare  trees,  birds  gone,  no  flowers,  bees  and  butterflies  to 
be  seen  out  of  doors.)  And  what  will  come  after  winter?  (Chil- 
dren tell  characteristics  of  spring.  Teacher  then  contrasts  the 
characteristics  of  summer  and  winter,  and  speaks  of  the  shorter 
days  which  we  have  in  the  latter  season.) 

Which  of  the  winds  will  be  out  to  play  most  of  the  time  now? 
Did  you  ever  hear  the  North  Wind  whistle  or  blow  a  bugle  ?  Play 
that  North  Wind  is  in  the  kindergarten  now. 

Some  one  else  comes  '*  when  the  wintry  winds  begin  to  bellow." 
(If  this  does  not  bring  Jack  Frost's  name  from  the  children,  give 
more  of  the  words  of  this  song  or  the  other  Jack  Frost  song,  or 
hum  the  tune.) 

What  does  Jack  Frost  do?  Helps  to  color  leaves,  opens  the 
chestnut  burrs  and  other  seed  vessels  so  that  the  wind  can  sow 
the  seeds ;  makes  pretty  white  pictures  on  the  windows.     When 


IN  THE  CHILD*S  WORLD.  99 

Jack  Frost  first  comes,  in  the  autumn,  he  only  makes  short 
visits  in  the  night;  but  in  the  winter  he  stays  all  the  time.  In 
the  country  he  puts  a  thin  sparkling  carpet  oyer  the  fields  and 
covers  the  brooks  with  a  glassy  roof.  In  the  city  he  touches  the 
water  on  the  sidewalks  and  makes  ** slides''  for  the  children.  I 
want  to  tell  you  another  thing  Jack  Frost  does.  But  will  ycu 
tell  me,  first,  what  hides  the  sun  some  days  so  that  we  cannot 
see  the  sunshine  at  all?  Yes,  the  clouds.  Sometimes  when 
there  are  gray  clouds  floating  about  in  the  sky,  Jack  Frost  and 
North  Wind  fly  up  there.  North  Wind  goes  to  the  clouds  and 
blows  and  whistles,  and,  what  do  you  think  1  out  come  the  little 
raindrops  that  were  sleeping  in  the  clouds — all  wide  awake  and 
ready  to  go  down  to  the  earth,  they  think.  But  Jack  Frost  is 
watching  for  them ;  and  as  fast  as  they  come  out  of  the  cloud, 
he  says  :  **  Don't  you  want  to  wear  your  white  dresses  this  time?  " 
And  then  he  touches  them,  and  each  little  raindrop  is  immedi- 
ately all  white  and  sparkling,  and  has  really  become  a  beautiful 
snow  star  or  snowflake.  So,  instead  of  the  rain  which  might 
have  come  down  to  the  earth  when  North  Wind  called  the  sleep- 
ing raindrops  out  of  the  clouds,  we  have  a  beautiful  snowstorm, 
all  because  Jack  Frost  was  there. 

(Speak  of  the  snow  as  a  protective  covering  for  plant  life,  and 
of  the  fun  to  be  had  with  sleds,  snowballs,  snow  men,  etc.) 

How  did  the  birds  get  ready  for  winter?  Most  of  them  by 
flying  away.  Have  the  sparrows  and  the  pigeons  gone?  They 
stay  with  us  and  we  like  to  have  them,  and  must  feed  them 
sometimes,  as  they  cannot  find  food  easily  in  winter.  How  did 
the  squirrels  get  ready  for  winter?  How  did  the  farmer  get 
ready  for  winter?  How  do  we?  Mother  makes  warm  clothes 
for  the  children ;  father  works  and  buys  coal  to  make  the  house 
cosy  and  warm.  Children  must  be  careful  not  to  lose  the  mittens 
which  mother  gives  them. 

The  following  is  a  pretty  winter  motto  : — 

"  The  skies  may  meet  in  sadness, 
The  blustering  winds  may  blow; 
But  if  our  hearts  are  cheery 
There's  sunshine  where  we  go." 


100 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD. 


TEACHER^S  READING. 

Architecture  of  Snow  ("Forms  of  Water"), Tyndatt 

The  Fairyland  of  Science,  -        -         -        -        -        .       Arabella  Buckley 

Ihe  Story  Mother  Nature  Told,  ___---  Jane  Andrews 

Stories  in  the  Snow  ("  Sharp  Eyes  "), W.H.Gibson 

The  Snow  Image,      -        -        -         -        -        -        -'-         -        Hawthorne 

The  Snowstorm,         _.-..-----  Emerson 

Snow  Bound,    - Whittier 

The  Approach  of  Winter, B.  W  Procter 

The  First  Snowfall,  ---- Lowell 

Winter, Tennyson 

Vision  of  Sir  Launf  al,        --        -        -        -        -        -        --      Lowell 

December,         -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -         -    C.  P,  Cranch 

The  Snow  Shower, -->.     Bryant 

For  the  Children 

The  Frost, -        -  //.  Gould 

A  Story  for  Willie  Winkie,  \  "  Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning 

The  Snowflakes,  J  Talks," Wiltse 

The  Ant  and  the  Grasshopper,  -->-__.       yEsop 

Bright,  Sprite  and  White,  ...        -        -       Holmes' s  Third  Reader 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WOELD.  .    101 


STORffiS*  '••.:. 

The  Thrifty  Squirrels* 

In  the  hollow  oak  tree  on  the  lawn  a  squirrel  had  made  his 
home.  He  was  such  a  pretty  fellow,  with  his  bright  eyes  and  long, 
bushy  tail.  He  was  prudent,  too,  as  well  as  pretty.  That  is,  he 
was  very  careful  about  little  things,  and  brought  up  his  family 
to  be  the  same.  His  family  was  Mrs.  Squirrel  and  three  little 
squirrels,  and  they  were  all  of  them  just  as  careful  and  orderly  as 
could  be.  There  was  never  so  much  as  a  nut  end  or  the  rind  of 
an  acorn  wasted  in  Mr.  Squirrel's  house,  and  one  of  the  very  first 
things  he  and  Mrs.  Squirrel  taught  their  children  was  to  lay  up  a 
store  of  food  to  eat  in  the  winter  months.  They  were  nice  little 
things,  the  little  squirrels :  bright,  good-tempered,  and  obedient. 
The  eldest,  whose  name  was  Brownie,  was  already  able  to  make 
an  acorn  pie,  or  a  nut  pudding  with  chestnut  sauce,  almost  as  well 
as  her  mother. 

On  this  cold  winter  day  about  which  I  have  been  telling  you, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Squirrel,  with  Brownie,  and  the  little  ones,  were 
sitting  at  tea  in  the  old  hollow  tree  on  the  lawn.  The  afternoon 
was  changing  into  evening,  and  the  light  was  nearly  gone,  when 
there  came  a  tiny  tap  at  the  door.  It  was  a  very  weak  little  tap, 
so  low  that  Mrs.  Squirrel  was  not  sure  that  any  one  had  knocked, 
and  listened  until  it  came  again.  Then  Mr.  Squirrel  got  up  and 
opened  the  door.  At  first  he  saw  no  one.  **  Who  is  there?"  he 
asked,  in  his  pleasant,  cheerful  voice. 

**It  is  I,  Neighbor,''  said  some  one  outside,  sadly.  **I  am  nearly 
famished  with  hunger  and  starved  with  cold.  "Will  you  let  me 
come  in  for  a  while  and  warm  myself?  " 

Mr.  Squirrel  at  once  opened  the  door  wide  and  said:  **Walk 
in,  walk  in.  It  is  a  bitter  cold  night,  to  be  sure.  Walk  in  and 
let  me  shut  the  door ;  my  tail  is  nearly  frozen  just  with  standing 
here." 

Then  there  came  hopping  into  the  house-place  a  rabbit.  Poor 
Bunny  !  how  miserable  he  did  look  !     His  fur  was  all  dirty  and 


102  .  IN  THE  child's  WORLi). 


ragged,  and  his  poor  little  tail  hung  down  behind  instead  of  stand- 
ing; up  nice  and  stiff,  as  a  good  rabbit's  tail  ought  to  do.  His  ears 
dropped,  and  his  whiskers  were  broken  and  limp.  He  had 
rheumatism  in  one  hind  leg,  and  his  eyes,  which  should  have  been 
as  bright  as  Mr.  Squirrel's,  were  dull  and  dim.  Altogether,  he 
looked  as  shabby  and  sad  as  a  bunny  could ;  not  in  the  least  like 
a  respectable,  well-brjught-up  rabbit. 

Mrs.  Squirrel  threw  up  both  her  front  paws  in  dismay.  Mr. 
Squirrel  made  haste  to  put  poor  Bunny  into  a  chair  beside  the 
fire,  whilst  Brownie  brought  him  her  own  slice  of  beech-nut  bread. 
Poor  Bunny  ate  it  eagerly,  arid  for  a  little  while  all  the  family  of 
squirrels  were  too  much  taken  up  in  attending  to  his  wants  to  ask 
any  questions.  When  he  was  warmed  and  rested,  Mrs.  Squirrel 
sent  all  her  little  ones  to  bed,  and  she  and  Mr.  Squirrel  began  to 
try  to  find  out  what  had  brought  their  poor  neighbor  into  such 
a  sad  plight. 

*'  How  could  I  help  it?  "  said  he  mournfully.  ''  I  did  not  know 
that  it  would  be  so  cold,  nor  that  the  snow  would  be  so  deep  that 
I  should  not  be  able  to  get  a  bit  of  winter  cabbage  to  eat.  I  am 
sure  I  am  willing  to  work ;  I  would  take  any  trouble,  but  it  is  not 
a  bit  of  use.  Indeed,  neighbor  Squirrel,  I  do  not  know  how  you 
have  managed."  And  he  looked  enviously  round  the  neat,  warm 
little  room. 

**It  was  very  simple,"  said  Mr.  Squirrel,  gravely.  *'We  all 
helped,  and  we  put  away  some  of  everything  we  found.  If  we 
found  six  nuts  we  put  away  three  in  our  storeroom,  and  nuts  and 
acorns  were  very  plentiful  this  autumn.  So,  though  the  winter 
is  so  very  hard,  we  shall  have  plenty,  and  plenty  for  a  friend,  too. 
Neighbor,  so  eat  as  much  as  you  will,  and  don't  spare  the  loaf." 

It  was  very  kind  of  Mr.  Squirrel,  but  he  could  not  help  poor 
Bunny  much.  He  had  been  such  an  idle,  wandering  fellow  that 
he  could  not  be  content  to  stay  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Squirrel  quietly, 
and  help  to  do  the  work  of  the  house,  so  in  a  few  days  he  wan- 
dered away  again. 

As  he  shivered  in  the  cold  blasts  and  tried  in  vain  to  satisfy  his 
hunger,  he  often  wished  that  he  had  been  as  prudent  and  thrifty 
as  the  Squirrel  family.  And  the  Squirrel  family,  being  as  kind- 
hearted  as  they  were  prudent,  often  thought  of  the  poor  Rabbit 


POOR  BUNNY, 


104  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

with  pity,  and  •wondered  how  he  was  getting  on ;  but  they  never 
heard  of  him  again. 

Mary  Dendy. 

^^  Lesson  Stones, ^^  The  Sunday  School  Association,  London. 


Jack  Frost  and  His  Work* 

**Ho  !  ho  !  "  said  Jack  Frost  one  cold  evening  near  the  end  of 
Autumn,  **this  is  just  the  kind  of  night  I  have  been  waiting  for. 
The  clouds  have  been  thick  enough  to  keep  back  the  heat  of  the 
sun,  and  North  "Wind  has  been  out  all  day  telling  people  that  I 
should  be  around  to-night.  Sometimes  I  like  to  surprise  people  ; 
but  I  find  that  I  am  not  always  welcome  when  I  make  my  visits 
unexpectedly,  so  this  time  I  have  sent  word,  and  I  hope  that  no 
one  will  grumble.     It  is  a  fine  night  for  work." 

So  Jack  Frost  packed  his  box  and  started  off.  By  this  time 
the  sun  and  the  clouds  were  gone,  and  the  stars  shone  clear  and 
bright  in  the  dark  sky.  The  air  was  keen  and  cold  but  very  still, 
for  North  Wind  had  gone  to  sleep  at  sunset. 

As  Jack  Frost  had  thought,  people  were  expecting  him  that 
night.  The  farmer  had  had  the  young  calves  brought  in  from 
the  pasture  where  they  had  been  all  summer.  The  barn  doors' 
were  shut  early  and  all  the  animals  were  made  comfortable  for 
the  night.  People  took  in  their  plants  and  gathered  the  autumn 
flowers  from  the  gardens.  **  These  are  the  last  for  this  year," 
they  said  ;  *'Jack  Frost  will  destroy  everything  to-night."  Mothers 
went  about  to  the  children's  beds,  putting  extra  blankets  over 
them,  so  that  the  little  ones  should  be  snug  and  warm  and  cosy. 
In  fact,  owing  to  Jack  Frost's  kind  warning,  most  people  were 
ready  for  him  by  the  time  he  began  his  work. 

In  the  box  which  Jack  Frost  carried  he  had  paint  brushes 
large  and  small,  and  a  paint  box.  He  had  also  some  sparkling 
stuff  of  a  silvery  white.  This  was  what  he  used  on  the 
window  panes.  Some  coarser  stuff  of  the  same  kind  was  for 
making  the  ground  white.  All  his  tools  were  not  of  this  kind, 
however.     Jack  Frost  makes  many  things  beautiful,  but  he  also 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  105 

destroys.  It  is  part  of  his  work  to  prepare  the  earth  for  winter 
by  pinching  the  late  flowers  and  nipping  the  grasses  and  harden- 
ing the  ground  ;  so,  besides  the  paints  and  paint  brushes  which  he 
had  in  his  box,  he  had  sharp  nippers  and  pincers,  and  hammers, 
and  such  things. 

When  Jack  Frost  came  to  the  chestnut  trees,  he  said,  **0h  !  the 
nuts  are  ripe  !  I  must  open  the  burrs  so  that  the  squirrels  and  the 
children  can  get  these  nice  nuts."  So  he  stayed  among  the  chest- 
nut trees  a  long  time,  prying  open  the  prickly  burrs.  How  pretty 
the  brown  nuts  looked,  packed  so  snugly  in  their  velvet-lined 
cases ! 

Jack  Frost  traveled  fast  and  far,  working  all  the  time.  How 
many  burrs  he  opened,  how  many  panes  of  glass  he  decorated, 
I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  must  tell  of  one  sad  thing  which  he 
had  to  do. 

Little  Alan  had  a  garden  of  his  own.  His  mamma  had  told 
him  in  the  afternoon  to  take  up  his  plants  or  Jack  Frost  would 
destroy  them.  Alan  had  put  off  doing  it  as  he  was  busy  at  play 
when  she  told  him,  and  he  did  not  think  of  it  again  until  it  was 
too  late. 

When  Jack  Frost  came  to  the  little  garden,  he  felt  very  sorry. 
**0h,  dear  !  "  said  he.  **  I  wish  Alan  had  taken  up  these  plants  ! 
I  hate  to  destroy  them,  but  I  cannot  leave  them  here  in  old 
Winter's  way."  So  out  came  the  nippers  and  pincers  and  some 
black  paint,  and  soon  Alan's  garden  was  a  sad  sight. 

The  next  morning  the  ground  was  all  white  and  sparkling,  the 
trees  looked  very  gay  with  their  red  and  yellow  leaves,  and  the 
squirrels  were  very  joyful  as  they  gathered  the  ripe  chestnuts. 
But  there  was  a  little  boy  who  felt  very  unhappy  indeed  as  he  saw 
what  Jack  Frost  had  done  to  his  garden.  **Next  time,"  said 
Alan  to  his  mamma,  as  they  were  talking  about  his  garden  that 
night,  '*next  time,  I  will  take  ail  my  plants  into  the  house  as 
soon  as  you  tell  me  that  Jack  Frost  is  coming." 

"Then  Jack  Frost  has  made  my  little  boy  wiser,"  said  his 
mamma. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


THE  FLOWER  BASKET 

OR  LOVING  AND  GIVING. 

To  THE  Teacher: — 

The  fitness  of  "  The  Flower  Basket "  as  a  subject  for  this  especial  time  can 
easily  be  demonstrated,  though  not  at  first  evident.  Listen  to  Froebel's  explana- 
tion: "It  is  to  lead  the  child  early  to  notice  tenderly  and  cherish  thoughtfully 
the  all-sided  bond  that,  invisible  though  it  is,  can  be  felt,  and  is  inner  and 
mental — that  is  to  say,  the  bond  whereby  humanity's  life  is  bound  up  together; 
and  the  life  of  a  child  and  of  the  family  afford  the  first  opportunity  for  doing 
this." 

In  the  "Mutter  and  Kose  Lieder"  this  play  follows  the  play  of  "  The  Bird's 
Nest"  and  might  be  considered  its  complement;  for  while  "The  Bird's  Nest" 
portrays  parental  love  by  a  most  vivid  and  attractive  imagery,  "  The  Flower 
Basket "  offers  the  child  an  outlet  for  his  aroused  affection — or,  rather,  shows  him 
the  beauty  of  expressing  his  reciprocal  love. 

Neither  flowers  nor  baskets  are  the  real  subject  of  the  play  therefore,  but 
loving  and  giving.  Hence  nothing  is  more  sweetly  suitable  for  our  contem- 
plation while  we  are  busy  with  the  little  gifts  which  should  one  and  all  be  the 
signs  of  lore. 

From  the  Essay  on  Giftst  Ralph  "Waldo  Emerson. 

"  The  only  gift  is  a  portion  of  thyself.  Therefore  the  poet  brings  his  poem; 
the  shepherd,  his  lamb;  the  farmer,  corn;  the  miner,  a  gem;  the  sailor,  coral 
and  shells;  the  painter,  his  picture;  the  girl,  a  handkerchief  of  her  own  sewing." 

"I  fear  to  breathe  any  treason  against  the  majesty  of  love  which  is  the 
genius  and  god  of  gifts  and  to  whom  we  must  not  affect  to  prescribe.  Let  him 
give  kingdoms  or  flower-leaves  indifferently." 


THE  TALK. 


(Sing  ''The  Flower  Basket,"  using  it  just  now  as  a  finger 
play,  and  repeating  it  as  a  circle  game  later,  if  you  wish.  If  the 
children  do  not  know  the  song,  the  teacher  could  sing  it  for 
them,  the  children   carefully   holding    their  baskets    meantime 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  107 

and  rising  and  stepping  forward  at  the  last  part  of  the  song,  as 
if  offering  them  to  papa  and  mamma.  Lead  the  children  to  talk 
of  home  and  parents  and  brothers  and  sisters.  Let  many  of 
them  tell  what  work  their  fathers  do.  Show  them  that  this  is 
to  provide  home,  clothes,  food,  etc.,  for  the  family,  and  that 
father  does  it  out  of  love  for  his  family. 

Let  them  tell  of  the  mother's  work.  Show  that  this,  too,  is 
done  for  love.)  How  many  of  these  children  love  their  papas? — 
their  mammas?  How  many  would  like  to  do  something  for  papa 
and  mamma?  What  can  you  do?  Can  you  work  as  papa  does, 
and  earn  money  to  buy  bread  and  meat  and  shoes  and  clothes, 
etc.,  etc.?  Can  you  make  clothes  and  mend,  or  cook,  or  wash 
and  iron,  as  mamma  does?  No;  little  children  cannot  do  such 
things. 

But  let  me  see  if  I  can  think  of  something  which  little  chil- 
dren can  do.  Can  you  sing  some  of  the  kindergarten  songs  for 
papa  and  mamma?  Can  you  tell  some  of  the  stories  you  have 
heard  here?  Can  you  tell  them  the  story  we  had  last  week? 
(Teacher  mentions  story  by  name.)  Papa  and  mamma  would 
be  so  pleased  to  hear  some  of  the  songs  and  stories.  Baby  might 
like  to  hear  the  songs,  too — and  sometimes  you  might  keep  the 
baby  happy  by  singing  to  it  or  playing  with  it  while  mamma  is 
busy  with  her  work. 

(Children  tell  other  things  they  can  do.)  All  these  things 
will  show  love.  Sometimes  we  show  love  by  giving  presents. 
Papa  and  mamma  will  be  so  pleased  with  the  presents  the  chil- 
dren are  making.  Be  sure  and  put  love  in  the  stitches  of  your 
sewing ;  that  is,  think  about  papa  and  mamma  while  you  workj 
and  try  to  sew  your  card  or  weave  your  mat  as  nicely  as  ever 
you  can.     That  is  what  *'  putting  love  in  "  means. 

Little  gifts  are  precious 
If  a  loving  heart 
Help  the  busy  fingers 
As  they  do  their  part. 


108  IN   THE   CHILD'S   WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

The  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal, Lowell 

Gifts R.  W.  Emerson 

The  Miraculous  Pitcher, -        -    N.  Hawthorne 

Little  Tuk,       ---1 Hans  Chr.  Andersen 

For  the  Children. 

Charlotte  and  the  Ten  Dwarfs  ("  Kindergarten  Stories  and 

Morning  Talks").     -----  S.  B.  Wiltse 


STORIES. 

Little  Servants. 

"  Oh,  what  an  untidy  room !  Skip  about,  little  ones,  and  set 
it  in  order." 

**I  don't  like  to  tidy  rooms,"  said  Elsie,  with  a  pucker  on  her 
pretty  forehead,  as  she  turned  the  pieces  of  her  dissected  map 
this  way  and  that. 

**  I  think  it  must  be  ever  so  nice  to  keep  plenty  of  servants," 
said  Ruth. 

**Yes,  indeed,"  said  Bessie,  ''just  like  Mrs.  Marshall." 

Elsie  brought  a  pout  to  her  lips  to  keep  company  with  the 
pucker  in  her  forehead,  and  looked  as  doleful  as  a  little  girl 
whose  face  seemed  made  rather  for  smiles  than  frowns  could 
look. 

**Do  you  think  you  would  be  happier  with  nothing  to  do?" 
asked  mamma. 

**Yes,  Fm  sure  I  should,"  said  Elsie. 

''And  I,"  said  Ruth. 

" But,"  said  Bessie,  thoughtfully,  "I  don't  know.  Mrs.  Mar- 
shall never  looks  half  so  nice  and  pleasant  as  mamma,  and  she 
says  her  servants  bother  her  all  the  time.  Do  you  think  they'd 
bother  you,  mamma,  if  you  kept  them?  " 

"I  dont't  know,  dear.     I  never  tried  keeping  more  than  one. 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD.  109 

except  these  little  bits  of  ones  here,"  pinching  Elsie's  cheeks  and 
giving  Ruth's  head  a  pat ;  **  and  as  they  are  not  always  very  will- 
ing little  servants,  perhaps  they  bother  me." 

**It's  a  shame,"  said  Bessie,  running  to  kiss  her  mother.  **I 
do  love  to  do  things  for  you,  mamma.  Hurry,  girls  ;  let's  see 
how  quick  we  can  be  !  " 

And  the  little  maids  flew  about  until  the  room  was  in  good 
order. 

*'But,"  said  Elsie,  as  mamma  settled  herself  to  some  sewing, 
and  the  three  gathered  around  her  for  a  talk,  *'I  was  reading 
the  other  day  about  the  little  king  of  Spain — he's  only  a  baby, 
you  know,  mamma,  and  yet  he's  a  king  !  And  he  has  ever  and 
ever  so  many  servants — all  for  just  himself." 

"1  once  knew  some  little  girls  who  kept  a  great  many  ser- 
vants." 

**Tell  us  about  them,  please,  mamma.     How  old  were  they?  " 

''Well,  about  as  old  as  Elsie  and  Ruth  and  Bessie." 

* '  How  many  did  they  have  ? ' ' 

'*  You  can  count  up  as  I  go  on.  There  were  two  bright -look- 
ing ones,  always  dressed  alike,  in  blue,  brown,  or  gray.  Their 
duty  was  to  keep  on  the  watch  for  what  ought  to  be  done." 

** Didn't  they  ever  do  anything  themselves?  " 

"Not  much  but  that.  It  seemed  to  keep  them  busy  if  they 
attended  to  their  duties ;  but  sometimes  they  were  negligent, 
and  then  of  course  the  work  of  all  the  other  servants  was  thrown 
into  confusion." 

**  I'm  sure  it  was  little  enough  to  do,"  said  Bessie. 

**Then  there  were  two  more,  whose  business  it  was  to  listen 
to  what  their  little  mistress's  mother  or  teacher  told  them,  and 
let  her  know  what  it  was." 

**It  seems  to  me,"  said  Ruth,  laughing,  "they  must  have  been 
a  lazy  set,  so  many  to  do  so  little.     Any  more,  mamma?" 

"Two  more,  always  dressed  in  red,  who  told  what  the  others 
heard."     **It  took  a  long  time  to  get  to  it,  I  think,"  said  Bessie. 

"When  these  had  settled  upon  anything  to  be  done,"  went  on 
mamma,  "there  were  a  pair  of  lovely  little  fellows,  always  wear- 
ing dark,  stout  clothing,  who  carried  the  little  girls  to  where 
their  work  was  to  be  done." 


110  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

'*0h,  oh  !  "  laughed  Elsie,  ''what  a  queer  set  you  are  telling 
us  of,  mamma.     Were  the  little  girls  lame?  " 

''  I  hope  they  did  their  work  well  when  they  got  to  it,  after 
all  that  fuss,"  said  Ruth. 

'*They  surely  ought  to  have  done  so,"  mamma  said,  **  for  they 
had  no  less  than  ten  little  servants  to  do  it  for  them." 

"  Now,  mamma,  do  teP.  us  what  you  mean,"  said  Elsie. 

*'I  mean,"  said  mamma,  "that  little  Blue  Eyes  and  Brown 
Eyes  and  Gray  Eyes  ought  always  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  any- 
thing to  be  done  for  those  whom  they  love." 

'*  Oh,  I  see  !  And  ears  to  listen  !"  cried  Bessie,  greatly  amused 
at  mamma's  fancy. 

"And  dear  little  lips,"  said  mamma,  kissing  the  pair  which 
chanced  to  be  nearest,  "which  can  not  only  talk  about  duties  to 
be  done,  but  can  lighten  and  brighten  every  duty  for  themselves 
and  for  others  by  their  smiles  and  merry  chatter." 

"  And  feet  to  walk  and  run  with,"  said  Bessie. 

"  And  fingers.  Dear  me,  just  think  of  all  the  servants,"  said 
Elsie.     "  I  should  think  they  would  quarrel  once  in  a  while." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  supposing  the  eyes  saw  something  to  do, 
and  the  ears  heard  somebody  tell  about  it,  and  the  feet  shouldn't 
want  to  go  to  it,  and  the  hands  shouldn't  want  to  do  it !  " 

"That  would  depend  on  what  kind  of  little  mistress  they 
had,"  said  niamma.  "If  she  wanted  to  do  right,  she  would  be 
sure  to  keep  all  her  little  servants  in  good  order.  And  they  need 
a  good  deal  of  training." 

"Yes,  I  guess  they  do,"  said  little  Ruth,  holding  up  her 
chubby  hands.  "They  have  to  learn  to  put  on  a  thimble,  and 
to  tread  a  needle,  and  to  sew." 

"  And  to  sweep,  and  dust,  and  to  pick  up  things,"  said  Bessie. 

"  And  to  write,  and  make  figures,  and  play  on  the  piano." 

"And  there  are  things  they  have  to  learn  not  to  do,"  said 
mamma,  with  a  significant  smile ;  *  *  not  to  meddle  with  things 
that  don't  belong  to  them ;  not  to  idle  when  they  ought  to  be 
busy ;  not  to  do  carelessly  or  negligently  the  work  which  ought 
to  be  done  well." 

'*  Oh,  dear  !  "  said  Bessie,  with  a  little  sigh,  "  so  many  things 
to  do,  and  so  many  things  not  to  do." 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  Ill 

*'Yes,  so  many,"  said  mamma.  "But  if  the  heart  which 
moves  all  these  little  servants  is  a  loving,  faithful  heart,  always 
striving  to  do  faithfully  whatever  comes  in  its  way,  there  need 
be  no  fear  of  its  not  succeeding." 

Sydney  Dayre. 

The  Youth's  Instructor, 


Extracts  from  the  Dream  of  Little  ChristeL 

Slowly  forth  from  the  village  church 

The  voice  of  the  choristers  hushed  overhead — 

Came  little  Christel,     She  paused  in  the  porch, 
Pondering  what  the  preacher  had  said. 

" '  Even  the  youngest,  humblest  child 

Something  may  do  to  please  the  Lord^  \ 
Now,  what,"  thought  she,  and  half  sadly  smiled, 
"  Can  I,  so  little  and  poor,  afford.?  " 

" '  Never,  never  a  day  should  pass, 

Without  some  kindness  kindly  shown, ^  " 
The  preacher  said.     Then  down  to  the  grass 
A  skylark  dropped,  like  a  brown-winged  stone. 

"  Well,  a  day  is  before  me  now; 

Yet  what,"  thought  she,  "  can  I  do,  if  I  try? 
If  an  angel  of  God  would  show  me  how! 
But  silly  am  I,  and  the  hours  they  fly." 

Then  the  lark  sprang  singing  up  from  the  sod, 
And  the  maiden  thought,  as  he  rose  to  the  blue, 
^'  He  says  he  will  carry  my  prayer  to  God ; 

But  who  would  have  thought  the  little  lark  knew!" 

Now  she  entered  the  village  street. 

With  book  in  hand  and  face  demure. 
And  soon  she  came,  with  sober  feet. 

To  a  crying  babe  at  a  cottage  door. 

It  wept  at  a  windmill  that  would  not  move, 
It  puffed  with  its  round  red  cheeks  in  vain. 

One  sail  stuck  fast  in  a  puzzling  groove, 
And  baby's  breath  could  not  stir  it  again. 


UTTLE  CHRISTEL. 


112 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  H^ 

So  baby  beat  the  sail  and  cried, 

While  no  one  came  from  the  cottage  door; 
But  little  Christel  knelt  down  by  its  side, 

And  set  the  windmill  going  once  more. 

Then  babe  was  pieased,  and  the  little  girl 

Was  glad  when  she  heard  it  laugh  and  crow; 
Thinking,  "  Happy  windmill,  that  has  but  to  whirl, 

To  please  the  pretty  young  creature  so!'' 

No  thought  of  herself  was  in  her  head. 

As  she  passed  out  at  the  end  of  the  street, 
And  came  to  a  rose-tree  tall  and  red, 

Drooping  and  faint  with  the  summer  heat 

She  ran  to  a  brook  that  was  flowing  by. 

She  made  of  her  two  hands  a  nice  round  cup, 
And  washed  the  roots  of  the  rose-tree  high. 

Till  it  lifted  its  languid  blossoms  up. 

"  O  happy  brook !  "  thought  little  Christel, 

"  You  have  done  some  good  this  summer's  day. 
You  have  made  the  flowers  look  fresh  and  well!" 
Then  she  rose  and  went  on  her  way. 

Unknown. 


The  "Wake-up"  Story. 

The  sun  was  up  and  the  breeze  was  blowing,  and  the  five 
chicks  and  four  geese  and  three  rabbits  and  two  kitties  and  one 
little  dog  were  just  as  noisy  and  lively  as  they  knew  how  to  be. 

They  were  all  watching  for  Baby  Ray  to  appear  at  the  window, 
but  he  was  still  fast  asleep  in  his  little  white  bed,  while  mamma 
was  making  ready  the  things  he  would  need  when  he  should 
wake  up. 

First,  she  went  along  the  orchard  path  as  far  as  the  old  wooden 
pump,  and  said :  **  Good  Pump,  will  you  give  me  some  nice,  clear 
water  for  the  baby's  bath?  '* 

And  the  pump  was  willing. 

The  good  old  pump  by  the  orchard  path 
Gave  nice,  clear  water  for  the  baby's  bath. 


114  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

Then  she  went  a  little  farther  on  the  path,  and  stopped  at  the 
'wood-pile,  and  said :  **  Good  Chips,  the  pump  has  given  me  nice, 
clear  water  for  dear  little  Ray ;  will  you  come  and  warm  the 
water  and  cook  his  food?  '' 

And  the  chips  were  willing. 

The  good  old  pump  by  the  orchard  path 
Gave  nice,  clear  water  for  the  baby's  bath. 
And  the  clean,  white  chips  from  the  pile  of  wood 
Were  glad  to  warm  it  and  to  cook  his  food. 

So  mamma  went  on  till  she  came  to  the  barn,  and  then  said : 
**  Good  Cow,  the  pump  has  given  me  nice,  clear  water,  and  the 
wood-pile  has  given  me  clean,  white  chips  for  dear  little  Ray ; 
will  you  give  me  warm,  rich  milk  ?  ' ' 

And  the  cow  was  willing. 

Then  she  said  to  the  top-knot  hen  that  was  scratching  in  the 
straw:  **Good  Biddy,  the  pump  has  given  me  nice,  clear  water, 
and  the  wood-pile  has  given  me  clean,  white  chips,  and  the  cow 
has  given  me  warm,  rich  milk  for  dear  little  Ray  ;  will  you  give 
me  a  new  laid  egg"^  " 

And  the  hen  was  willing. 

The  good  old  pump  by  the  orchard  path 
Gave  nice,  clear  water  for  the  baby's  bath. 
The  clean,  white  chips  from  the  pile  of  wood 
Were  glad  to  warm  it  and  to  cook  his  food. 
The  cow  gave  milk  in  the  milk-pail  bright. 
And  the  top-knot  Biddy  an  egg  new  and  white. 

Then  mamma  went  on  till  she  came  to  the  orchard,  and  said 
to  a  Red  June  apple  tree  :  "  Good  Tree,  the  pump  has  given  me 
nice,  clear  water,  and  the  wood-pile  has  given  me,  clean,  white 
chips,  and  the  cow  has  given  me  warm,  rich  milk,  and  the  hen 
has  given  me  a  new-laid  egg  for  dear  little  Ray ;  will  you  give  me 
a  pretty  red  apple?  " 

And  the  tree  was  willing. 

So  mamma  took  the  apple  and  the  egg  and  the  milk  and  the 
chips  and  the  water  to  the  house,  and  there  was  Baby  Ray  in  his 
nightgown  looking  out  of  the  window. 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  115 

And  she  kissed  him  and  bathed  him  and  dressed  him,  and 
while  she  brushed  and  curled  his  soft,  brown  hair,  she  told  him 
the  *' Wake -Up"  story  that  I  am  telling  you : — 

The  good  old  pump  by  the  orchard  path 
Gave  nice,  clear  water  for  the  baby's  bath. 
The  clean,  white  chips  from  the  pile  of  wood 
Were  glad  to  warm  it  and  to  cook  his  food. 
The  cow  gave  milk  in  the  milk-pail  bright; 
The  top-knot  Biddy  an  egg  new  and  white; 
And  the  tree  gave  an  apple  so  round  and  so  red. 
For  dear  little  Ray  who  was  just  out  of  bed. 

EUDORA  BUMSTEAD. 
YouWs  Companion, 


The  ^'Go-SIecp''  Story* 

*'  How  can  I  go  to  bed,"  said  Penny,  the  flossy  dog,  **till  I  say 
good  night  to  Baby  Ray?  He  gives  me  part  of  his  bread  and 
milk,  and  pats  me  with  his  little  soft  hand.  It  is  bedtime  now 
for  dogs  and  babies.     I  wonder  if  he  is  asleep?  " 

So  he  trotted  along  in  his  silky  -white  nightgown  till  he  found 
Baby  Ray  on  the  porch  in  mamma's  arms. 

And  she  was  telling  him  the  same  little  story  that  I  am  telling 
you: — 

The  Doggie  that  was  given  him  to  keep,  keep,  keep, 
Went  to  see  if  Baby  Ray  was  asleep,  sleep,  sleep. 

"  How  can  we  go  to  bed,"  said  Snowdrop  and  Thistledown,  the 
youngest  children  of  Tabby,  the  cat,  **till  we  have  once  more 
looked  at  Baby  Ray?  He  kts  us  play  with  his  blocks  and  ball, 
and  laughs  when  we  climb  en  the  table.  It  is  bedtime  now  for 
kitties  and  dogs  and  babies  Perhaps  we  shall  find  him  asleep." 
And  this  is  what  the  kitties  heard : — 

One  doggie  that  was  given  him  to  keep,  keep,  keep, 
Two  cunning  little  kiity-cats,  creep,  creep,  creep. 
Went  to  see  if  Baby  Ray  was  asleep,  sleep,  sleep. 


116  IN   THE   CHILD'S   WORLD. 

**How  can  we  go  to  bed,"  said  the  three  little  Bunnies,  '-till 
we  have  seen  Baby  Ray?  "  Then  away  they  went  m  their  white 
velvet  nightgowns  as  softly  as  three  flakes  of  snow.  And  they, 
too,  when  they  got  as  far  as  the  porch,  heard  Ray's  mamma  tell- 
ing the  same  little  story  : — 

One  doggie  that  was  given  him  to  keep,  keep,  keep, 
Two  cunning  little  kitty-cats,  creep,  creep,  creep. 
Three  pretty  little  bunnies  with  a  leap,  leap,  leap, 
Went  to  see  if  Baby  Ray  was  asleep,  sleep,  sleep. 

**  How  can  we  go  to  bed,"  said  the  four  white  Geese,  *'  till  we 
know  that  Baby  Ray  is  all  right?  He  loves  to  watch  us  sail  on 
the  duck  pond,  and  he  brings  us  corn  in  his  little  blue  apron.  It 
is  bedtime  now  for  geese  and  rabbits  and  kitties  and  dogs  and 
babies,  and  he  really  ought  to  be  asleep." 

So  they  waddled  away  in  their  white  feather  nightgowns, 
around  by  the  porch,  where  they  saw  Baby  Ray,  and  heard 
mamma  tell  the  **  Go-Sleep  "  story  : — 

One  doggie  that  was  given  him  to  keep,  keep,  keep, 
Two  cunning  little  kitty-cats,  creep,  creep,  creep. 
Three  pretty  little  bunnies,  with  a  leap,  leap,  leap. 
Four  geese  from  the  duck-pond,  deep,  deep,  deep. 
Went  to  see  if  Baby  Ray  was  asleep,  sleep,  sleep,   . 

** How  can  we  go  to  bed,"  said  the  five  white  Chicks,  "till  we 
have  seen  Baby  Ray  once  more?  He  scatters  crumbs  for  us  and 
calls  us.  Now  it  is  bedtime  for  chicks  and  geese  and  rabbits  and 
kitties  and  dogs  and  babies,  so  little  Ray  must  be  asleep." 

Then  they  ran  and  fluttered  in  their  downy  white  nightgowns 
till  they  came  to  the  porch,  where  little  Ray  was  just  closing  his 
eyes,  while  mamma  told  the  **  Go-Sleep  "  story  : — 

One  doggie  that  was  given  him  to  keep,  keep,  keep. 
Two  cunning  little  kitty-cats,  creep,  creep,  creep. 
Three  pretty  little  bunnies,  with  a  leap,  leap,  leap, 
Four  geese  from  the  duck-pond,  deep,  deep,  deep, 
Five  downy  little  chicks,  crying,  peep,  peep,  peep. 
All  saw  that  Baby  Ray  was  asleep,  sleep,  sleep. 

EUDORA   BUMSTEAD. 
Youth's  Companion. 


CHRISTMAS. 


To  THE  Teacher:- 


As  soon  as  we  begin  learning  the  Christmas  carols  and  making  the  Christmas 
presents,  we  naturally  talk  much  of  the  approaching  happy  seaaon  and  its 
origin. 

The  following  talk  is  not  meant,  therefore,  as  a  first  presentation  or  a  full 
presentation  of  the  sweet  old  story,  but  rather  as  giving  a  setting  for  it. 


THE  TALK. 

(Since  the  children  are  by  this  time  in  the  full  delight  of  their 
Christmas  work,  gifts  and  giving  are  so  continually  in  their 
thoughts  that  the  talk  will  probably  direct  itself  into  that  channel. 
Try  again  to  make  the  impression  that  gifts  are  to  show  love  ;  that 
although  we  can  show  our  love  constantly  by  doing  loving  deeds 
for  father  and  mother  and  friends,  we  also  like  to  show  love  some- 
times by  giving  presents.) 

What  are  some  of  the  times  when  people  give  presents?  Christ- 
mas, of  course  ;  and  very  often  on  birthdays.  (See  whether  the 
children  have  any  idea  why  Christmas  should  be  a  time  for  gifts, 
before  you  expain  it  to  them. 

Speak  of  Jesus  as  a  gift  of  love  to  the  world ;  and,  briefly,  of 
how  he  *'went  about  doing  good,"  ''pleased  not  himself," — 
teaching  and  living  a  life  of  goodness  and  love.  That  is  why 
Christmas,  his  birthday,  is  the  "  gladdest  of  birthdays  in  all  the 
year.") 

Let  us  think  about  that  long-ago  Christmas  when  Jesus  was 
bom.  It  was  Winter,  but  in  a  warm  country ; — a  country  where 
figs  and  dates  and  oranges,  and  all  such  things  grow.  Joseph 
and  Mary  had  come  a  long  way  to  this  place,  Mary  riding  on  a 
donkey  and  Joseph  riding  by  her  side.  People  often  use  donkeys 
instead  of  horses  in  that  land.     Mary  and  Joseph  went  to  an  inn 


118  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

An  inn  is  a  place  where  travelers  can  stay  to  rest  and  get  food. 
We  have  inns,  too,  in  these  days,  and  sometimes  call  them  hotels. 

So  many  other  people  had  gone  to  Bethlehem  at  this  time,  that 
all  the  houses  and  hotels  were  crowded,  and  Joseph  and  Mary 
found  that  there  was  no  room  for  them  except  in  the  stable.  That 
must  have  been  crowded,  too ;  for,  besides  the  cows  and  oxen, 
there  must  have  been  a  good  many  horses  and  donkeys  there, 
belonging  to  the  other  travelers.  What  do  you  think  Joseph  and 
Mary  did  when  they  went  into  the  stable?  I  suppose  they 
fed  the  donkey  and  tied  him  near  them  for  the  night,  and  then 
made  their  own  beds  ready.  These  beds  were  only  piles  of 
fresh,  clean  straw,  but  were  soft  and  comfortable.  What  could 
be  a  cosier  cradle  for  any  wee  baby  than  the  manger  where  the 
Christ  Child  was  laid? 

(Describe  manger  if  the  children  do  not  already  understand 
about  it:) 

What  do  you  suppose  the  donkey  or  the  cows  would  have 
thought  if  they  had  gone  to  the  manger  to  eat  some  of  the  hay 
and  had  seen  the  dear  little  new  baby  lying  there?  I  do  not 
believe  they  would  have  hurt  him,  do  you? 

Try  and  make  a  picture  in  your  minds  of  the  stable  with  the 
shining  star  above  it ;  the  cattle  all  about ;  the  manger  with  the 
baby  in  its  little  nest  of  hay ;  Joseph  and  Mary  standing  near ; 
and  then  the  shepherds,  with  their  long  crooks,  going  in. 

Afterwards,  other  visitors  came, — the  wise  men  who  had 
traveled  so  far.  (Let  the  children  tell  of  the  shepherds'  vision 
and  of  the  wise  men  and  the  wondrous  star ;  not  only  in  their 
own  words  but  by  repeating  the  lines  of  some  of  their  carols. 
Nothing  vivifies  a  song  or  carol  more  than  having  the  familiar 
words  thus  used  by  the  children.) 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  119 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

BenHur, Wallace 

Life  of  Christ, Farraf 

A  Christmas  Carol, Dickens 

A  Christmas  Hymn,  - Alfred  Domett 

Hymn  of  the  Nativity, Milton 

End  of  the  Play, Thackeray 

Under  the  Holly-bough, Mackay 

Christmas-tide, Scott 

The  Sketch  Book,  Irving 

For  the  Children. 

Daily  Bread, Mrs.  Catty 

What  the  Hollies  Did  ("  Stories  for  Kindergarten  and  Home") 

M.  L.  Van  Kirk 

The  Night  Before  Christmas, C.  C.  Moore 

The  Fir  Tree Hans  Chr.  Andersen 

The  Story  of  Christmas  ("  The  Story  Hour"),           -        -        .  Nora  A.  Smith 
Old  Christmas, Mary  Howitt 


STORffiS. 

Christmas  in  the  Bam. 

Only  two  more  days  and  Christmas  would  be  here  !  It  had  been 
snowing  hard,  and  Johnny  was  standing  at  the  window,  looking 
at  the  soft,  white  snow  which  covered  the  ground  half  a  foot  deep. 
Presently  he  heard  the  noise  of  wheels  coming  up  the  road,  and 
a  wagon  turned  in  at  the  gate  and  came  past  the  window.  Johnny 
was  very  curious  to  know  what  the  wagon  could  be  bringing.  He 
pressed  his  little  nose  close  to  the  cold  window  pane,  and,  to  his 
great  surprise,  saw  two  large  Christmas  trees.  Johnny  wondered 
why  there  were  two  trees,  and  turned  quickly  to  run  and  tell 
Mamma  all  about  it ;  but  then  remembered  that  Mamma  was  not 
at  home.  She  had  gone  to  the  city  to  buy  some  Christmas  pres- 
ents and  would  not  return  until  quite  late.     Johnny  began  to  feel 


120  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

that  his  toes  and  fingers  had  grown  quite  cold  from  standing  at 
the  window  so  long ;  so  he  drew  his  own  little  chair  up  to  the 
cheerful  grate  fire  and  sat  there  quietly  thinking.  Pussy,  who 
had  been  curled  up  like  a  little  bundle  of  wool  in  the  very  warm- 
est corner,  jumped  up,  and,  going  to  Johnny,  rubbed  her  head 
against  his  knee  to  attract  his  attention.  He  patted  her  gently 
and  began  to  talk  to  her  about  what  was  in  his  thoughts. 

He  had  been  puzzling  over  the  two  trees  which  had  come,  and 
at  last  had  made  up  his  mind  about  them.  '*  I  know  now.  Pussy," 
said  he,  '*  why  there  are  two  trees.  This  morning  when  I  kissed 
Papa  goodbye  at  the  gate  he  said  he  was  going  to  buy  one  for  me, 
and  Mamma,  who  was  busy  in  the  house,  did  not  hear  him  say  so  ; 
and  I  am  sure  she  must  have  bought  the  other.  But  what  shall 
we  do  with  two  Christmas  trees?  " 

Pussy  jumped  into  his  lap  and  purred  and  purred.  A  plan 
suddenly  flashed  into  Johnny's  mind.  "Would  you  like  to  have 
one.  Pussy?  "  Pussy  purred  more  loudly  and  it  seemed  almost 
as  though  she  had  said  yes. 

*'  Oh  !  I  will,  I  will !  if  Mamma  will  let  me.  I'll  have  a  Christ- 
mas tree  out  in  the  barn  for  you,  Pussy,  and  for  all  the  pets ;  and 
then  you'll  all  be  as  happy  as  I  shall  be  with  my  tree  in  the 
parlor." 

By  this  time  it  had  grown  quite  late.  There  was  a  ring  at  the 
door  bell ;  and  quick  as  a  flash  Johnny  ran  with  a  happy,  smiling 
face  to  meet  Papa  and  Mamma  and  gave  them  each  a  loving  kiss. 
During  the  evening  he  told  them  all  that  he  had  done  that  day 
and  also  about  the  two  big  trees  which  the  man  had  brought. 
It  was  just  as  Johnny  had  thought.  Papa  and  Mamma  had  each 
bought  one,  and  as  it  was  so  near  Christmas  they  thought  they 
would  not  send  either  of  them  back.  Johnny  was  very  glad  of 
this,  and  told  them  of  the  happy  plan  he  had  made  and  asked  if 
he  might  have  the  extra  tree.  Papa  and  Mamma  smiled  a  little 
as  Johnny  explained  his  plan,  but  they  said  he  might  have  the 
tree,  and  Johnny  went  to  bed  feeling  very  happy. 

That  night  his  papa  fastened  the  tree  into  a  block  of  wood  so 
that  it  would  stand  firmly  and  then  set  it  in  the  middle  of  the 
barn  floor.  The  next  day  when  Johnny  had  finished  his  lessons 
he  went  to  the  kitchen,  and  asked  Annie,  the  cook,  if  she  would 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  121 

save  the  bones  and  potato  parings  and  all  other  leavings  from  the 
day's  meals  and  give  them  to  him  the  following  morning.  He 
also  begged  her  to  give  him  several  cupfuls  of  salt  and  corn  meal, 
which  she  did,  putting  them  in  paper  bags  for  him.  Then  she 
gave  him  the  dishes  he  asked  for, — a  few  chipped  ones  not  good 
enough  to  be  used  at  table — and  an  old  wooden  bowl.  Annie 
wanted  to  know  what  Johnny  intended  to  do  with  all  these  things, 
but  he  only  said:  ''Wait  until  to-morrow,  then  you  shall  see." 
He  gathered  up  all  the  things  which  the  cook  had  given  him  and 
carried  them  to  the  barn,  placing  them  on  a  shelf  in  one  corner, 
where  he  was  sure  no  one  would  touch  them  and  where  they 
would  be  all  ready  for  him  to  use  the  next  morning. 

Christmas  morning  came,  and,  as  soon  as  he  could,  Johnny 
hurried  out  to  the  barn,  where  stood  the  Christmas  tree  which  he 
was  going  to  trim  for  all  his  pets.  The  first  thing  he  did  was  to 
get  a  paper  bag  of  oats  ;  this  he  tied  to  one  of  the  branches  of  the 
tree,  for  Brownie,  the  mare.  Then  he  made  up  several  bundles 
of  hay  and  tied  these  on  the  other  side  of  the  tree,  not  quite  so 
high  up,  where  White  Face,  the  cow,  could  reach  them;  and  on 
the  lowest  branches  some  more  hay  for  Spotty,  the  calf. 

Next  Johnny  hurried  to  the  kitchen  to  get  the  things  Annie 
had  promised  to  save  for  him.  She  had  plenty  to  give.  With 
his  arms  and  hands  full  he  went  back  to  the  barn.  He  found 
three  *'  lovely  "  bones  with  plenty  of  meat  on  them ;  these  he  tied 
together  to  another  branch  of  the  tree,  for  Rover,  his  big  black 
dog.  Under  the  tree  he  placed  the  big  wooden  bowl,  and  filled 
it  well  with  potato  parings,  rice  and  meat,  left  from  yesterday's 
dinner;  this  was  the  ''full  and  tempting  trough"  for  Piggywig. 
Near  this  he  placed  a  bowl  of  milk  for  Pussy,  on  one  plate  the 
salt  for  the  pet  lamb,  and  on  another  the  corn  meal  for  the  dear 
little  chickens.  On  the  top  of  the  tree  he  tied  a  basket  of  nuts  ; 
these  were  for  his  pet  squirrel ;  and  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell 
you  of  the  bunch  of  carrots  tied  very  low  down  where  soft  white 
"^unny  could  reach  them. 

When  all  was  done,  Johnny  stood  on:  a  little  way  to  look  at 
this  wonderful  Christmas  tree.  Clapping  his  hands  with  delight, 
he  ran  to  call  Papa  and  Mamma  and  Annie,  and  they  laughed 
aloud  when  they  saw  what  he   had  doue>     It  was  the  funniest 


122  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

Christmas  tree  they  had  ever  seen.     They  were  sure  the  pets 
would  like  the  presents  Johnny  had  chosen. 

Then  there  was  a  busy  time  in  the  bam.  Papa  and  Mamma 
and  Annie  helped  about  bringing  in  the  animals,  and  before  long 
Brownie,  White  Face,  Spotty,  Rover,  Piggy  wig,-  Pussy,  Lamb- 
kin, the  chickens,  the  squirrel  and  Bunny  the  rabbit,  had  been 
led  each  to  his  own  Chnstmas  breakfast  on  and  under  the  tree. 
"What  a  funny  sight  it  was  to  see  them  all  standing  around  look- 
ing happy  and  contented,  eating  and  drinking  with  such  an 
appetite ! 

While  watching  them  Johnny  had  another  thought,  and  he  ran 
quickly  to  the  house  and  brought  out  the  new  trumpet  which 
Papa  had  given  him  for  Christmas.  By  this  time  the  animals 
had  all  finished  their  breakfast,  and  Johnny  gave  a  little  toot  on 
his  trumpet  as  a  signal  that  the  tree  festival  was  over.  Brownie 
went,  neighing  and  prancing,  to  her  stall ;  White  Face  walked 
demurely  off  with  a  bellow,  which  Spotty,  the  calf,  running  at 
her  heels,  tried  to  imitate  ;  the  little  lamb  skipped  bleating  away ; 
Piggywig  walked  off  with  a  grunt ;  Pussy  jumped  on  the  fence 
with  a  mew ;  the  squirrel  still  sat  up  in  the  tree  cracking  her  nuts  ; 
Bunny  hopped  to  her  snug  little  quarters ;  while  Rover,  barking 
loudly,  chased  the  chickens  back  to  their  coop.  Such  a  hubbub 
of  noises  !  Mamma  said  it  sounded  as  if  they  were  trying  to  say : 
*'  Merry  Christmas  to  you,  Johnny  !     Merry  Christmas  to  all." 

Frances  Arnstein. 


Santa  Claus  and  the  Mouse* 

One  Christmas  eve,  when  Santa  Claus 

Came  to  a  certain  house, 
To  fill  the  children's  stockings  there, 

He  found  a  little  mouse. 

"  A  merry  Christmas,  little  friend," 

Said  Santa,  good  and  kind. 
"  The  same  to  you,  sir,"  said  the  mouse; 
"  I  thought  you  wouldn't  mind 


<< 

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SANTA  GLAUS  AND  THE  MOUSE. 


124  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 


St  Nichlas. 


"  If  I  should  stay  awake  to-night 

And  watch  you  for  a  while." 
*^  You're  very  welcome,  little  mouse," 

Said  Santa,  with  a  smile. 

And  then  he  filled  the  stockings  up 

Before  the  mouse  could  wink — 
From  toe  to  top,  from  top  to  toe. 

There  wasn't  left  a  chink. 

"  Now,  they  won't  hold  another  thing," 
Said  Santa  Claus,  with  pride. 
A  twinkle  came  in  mouse's  eyes, 
But  humbly  he  replied: 

*  It's  not  polite  to  contradict — 
Your  pardon  I  implore — 
But  in  the  fullest  stocking  there 
/  could  put  one  thing  more." 

"  Oh,  ho!  "  laughed  Santa,  "silly  mousel 
Don't  I  know  how  to  pack? 
By  filling  stockings  all  these  years, 
I  should  have  learned  the  knack." 

And  then  he  took  the  stocking  down 

From  where  it  hung  so  high. 
And  said:   "  Now  put  in  one  thing  more; 

I  give  you  leave  to  try." 
The  mousie  chuckled  to  himself, 

And  then  he  softly  stole 
Right  to  the  stocking's  crowded  toe 

And  gnawed  a  little  hole ! 

■'  Now,  if  you  please,  good  Santa  Claus, 
I've  put  in  one  thing  more; 
For  you  will  own  that  little  hole 
Was  not  in  there  before." 

How  Santa  Claus  did  laugh  and  laugh  I 

And  then  he  gaily  spoke: 
Well!  you  shall  have  a  Christmas  cheese 

For  that  nice  little  joke." 

If  you  don't  think  this  story  true, 

Why!   I  can  show  to  you 
Ine  very  stocking  with  the  hole 

The  little  mouse  gnawed  through. 

Emilie  Podxsson. 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  125 


The  Birds^  Christmas* 

Founded  on  Fact. 

'*  Chickadee-dee-dee-dee  !  Chickadee-dee-dee-dee!  Chicka — " 
"  Cheerup,  cheerup  chee-chee  !  Cheerup,  cheerup  chee-chee  !  " 
'*Ter-ra-lee,  ter-ra-lee,  ter-ra-lee  !  " 

"  Rap-atap-atap-atap  !  "  went  the  woodpecker ;  "  Mrs.  Chick- 
adee may  speak  first." 

'*  Friends,"  began  Mrs.  Chickadee,  **why  do  you  suppose  I 
called  you  together?  " 

**  Because  it's  the  day  before  Christmas, "'twittered  Snow  Bunt- 
ing. ''And  you're  going  to  give  a  Christmas  party,"  chirped 
the  Robin.  **  And  you  want  us  all  to  come  !  "  said  Downy  Wood- 
pecker.    **  Hurrah  !     Three  cheers  for  Mrs.  Chickadee  !  " 

**Hush  !  "  said  Mrs.  Chickadee,  ''And  I'll  tell  you  all  about 
it.  To-morrow  is  Christmas  day,  but  I  don't  want  to  give  a 
party."  ■ 

"  Chee,  chee,  chee  !  "  cried  Robin  Rusty-breast ;  "  chee,  chee, 
chee!" 

"Just  listen  to  my  little  plan,"  said  Mrs.  Chickadee,  "for, 
indeed,  I  want  you  all  to  help.  How  many  remember  Thistle 
Goldfinch — the  happy  little  fellow  who  floated  over  the  meadows 
through  the  summer  and  fall?  " 

"Cheerup  chee-chee,  cheerup  chee-chee,  I  do,"  sang  the 
Robin  ;  "  how  he  loved  to  sway  on  thistle-tops  !  "  "  Yes,"  said 
Downy  Woodpecker,  "  and  didn't  he  §ing?  All  about  blue  skies, 
and  sunshine  and  happy  days,  with  his  '  Swee-e-et-sweet-sweet- 
sweet-a-twitter-witter-witter- witter- wee-twea  ! '  " 

"Ter-ra-lee,  ter-ra-lee,"  said  Snow  Bunting.  "We've  all 
heard  of  Thistle  Goldfinch,  but  what  can  he  have  to  do  with 
your  Christmas  party?  He's  away  down  South  now,  and 
wouldn't  care  if  you  gave  a  dozen  parties." 

"  Oh,  but  he  isn't ;  he's  right  in  these  very  woods  ! " 

"Why,  you  don*t  mean — " 

"Indeed  I  do  mean  it,  every  single  word.  Yesterday  I  was 
flitting  about  among  the  trees,  pecking  at  a  dead  branch  here, 
and  a  bit  of  moss  there,  and  before  I  knew  it  I  found  myself 


126  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

away  over  at  the  other  side  of  the  woods  !  *  Chickadee-dee-dee, 
chickadee-dee-dee!'  J  sang,  as  I  turned  my  bill  toward  home. 
Just  then  I  heard  the  saddest  little  voice  pipe  out :  *  '  Dear-ie  me  ! 
dear-ie  me  ! '  and  there  on  the  sunny  side  of  a  branch  perched  a 
lonesome  bit  of  yellowish  down.  I  went  up  to  see  what  it  was, 
and  found  dear  little  Thistle  Goldfinch !  He  was  very  glad  to 
see  me,  and  soon  told  his  short  story.  Through  the  summer 
Papa  and  Mamma  Goldfinch  and  all  the  brothers  and  sisters  had 
a  fine  time,  singing  together,  fluttering  over  thistle-tops,  or 
floating  through  the  balmy  air.  But  when  'little  Jack  Frost 
walked  through  the  trees,'  Papa  Goldfinch  said  :  *It  is  high  time 
we  went  south  ! '  All  were  ready  but  Thistle  ;  he  wanted  to  stay 
through  the  winter,  and  begged  so  hard  that  Papa  Goldfinch 
soberly  said :  *  Try  it,  my  son,  but  do  find  a  warm  place  to  stay 
in  at  night.'  Then  off  they  flew,  and  Thistle  was  alone.  For 
a  while  he  was  happy.  The  sun  shone  warm  through  the  middle 
of  the  day,  and  there  were  fields  and  meadows  full  of  seeds. 
You  all  remember  how  sweetly  he  sang  for  us  then.  But  by  and 
by  the  cold  North  Wind  came  whistling  through  the  trees,  and 
chilly  Thistle  woke  up  one  gray  morning  to  find  the  air  full 
of  whirling  snowflakes.  He  didn't  mind  the  light  snows,  for 
golden-rod  and  some  high  grasses  were  too  tall  to  be  easily  cov- 
ered, and  he  got  seeds  from  them.  But  now  that  the  heavy 
snows  have  come,  the  poor  little  fellow  is  almost  starved,  and  if 
he  doesn't  have  a  warm  place  to  sleep  in  these  cold  nights,  he'll 
surely  die  ! " 

Mrs.  Chickadee  paused  a  minute.  The  birds  were  so  still  one 
could  hear  the  pine  trees  whisper.  Then  she  went  on:  "\ 
comforted  the  poor  little  fellow  as  best  I  could,  and  showed  him 
where  to  find  a  few  seeds ;  then  I  flew  home,  for  it  was  bedtime. 
I  tucked  my  head  under  my  wing  to  keep  it  warm,  and  thought, 
and  thought,  and  thought ;  and  here's  my  plan : — 

**  We  Chickadees  have  a  nice  warm  home  here  in  the  spruce 
trees,  with  their  thick,  heavy  boughs  to  shut  out  the  snow  and 
cold.  There  is  plenty  of  room,  so  Thistle  could  sleep  here  all 
winter.  We  would  let  him  perch  on  a  branch,  when  we  Chicka- 
dees would  nestle  around  him  until  he  was  as  warm  as  in  the 
lovely  summer  time.     These  cones  are  so  full  of  seeds  that  we 


*  Sung  to  "  do,  sol,  mi« 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  127 

could  spare  him  a  good  many ;  and  I  think  that  you  Robins  might 
let  him  come  over  to  your  pines  some  day  and  share  your  seeds. 
Downy  Woodpecker  must  keep  his  eyes  open  as  he  hammers  the 
trees,  and  if  he  spies  a  supply  of  seeds  he  will  let  us  know  at 
once.  Snow  Bunting  is  only  a  visitor,  so  I  don't  expect  him  to 
help,  but  I  wanted  him  to  hear  my  plan  with  the  rest  of  you. 
Now  you  will  try,  won't  you,  every  one?  " 

**Cheerup,  cheerup,  ter-ra-lee  !  indeed  we'll  try;  let's  begin 
right  away!  Don't  wait  until  to-morrow;  who'll  go  and  find 
Thistle?" 

**I  will,"  chirped  Robin  Rusty-breast,  and  off  he  flew  to  the 
place  which  Mrs.  Chickadee  had  told  of,  at  the  other  side  of  the 
wood.  There,  sure  enough,  he  found  Thistle  Goldfinch  sighing : 
*  **  Dear-ie  me  !  dear-ie  me  !  The  winter  is  so  cold  and  I'm  here 
all  alone  !  "     **  Cheerup,  chee-chee  !  "  piped  the  Robin : — 

"  Cheerup,  cheerup,  I'm  here! 
I'm  here  and  I  mean  to  stay. 
What  if  the  winter  is  drear — 
Cheerup,  cheerup  anyway!  " 

'*But  the  snow  is  so  deep,"  said  Thistle,  and  the  Robin  re- 
plied : — 

"  Soon  the  snows  '11  be  over  and  gone, 
Run  and  rippled  away; 
What's  the  use  of  looking  forlorn? 
Cheerup,  cheerup,  I  say!  " 

Then  he  told  Thistle  all  their  plans,  and  wasn't  Thistle  sur- 
prised? Why,  he  just  couldn't  believe  a  word  of  it  till  they 
reached  Mrs.  Chickadee's  and  she  said  it  was  all  true.  They 
fed  him  and  warmed  him,  then  settled  themselves  for  a  good 
night's  rest. 

Christmas  morning  they  were  chirping  gaily,  and  Thistle  was 
trying  to  remember  the  happy  song  he  sang  in  the  summer  time, 
when  there  came  a  whirr  of  wings  as  Snow  Bunting  flew  down. 


♦  Sung  tc  *'do,  sol,  rai." 


128  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

**Ter-ra-lee,  ter-ra-lee,  ter-ra-lee,"  said  he;  '*can  you  fly  a 
little  way?  " 

*'0h,  yes,"  replied  Thistle.     I  think  1  could  fly  a  long  way." 

**Come  on,  then,"  said  Snow  Bunting.  ''Every  one  who 
wants  a  Christmas  dinner,  follow  me  !  "  That  was  every  word  he 
would  say,  so  what  could  they  do  but  follow? 

Soon  they  came  to  the  edge  of  the  wood,  and  then  to  a  farm- 
house. Snow  Bunting  flew  straight  up  to  the  piazza,  and  there 
stood  a  dear  little  girl  in  a  warm  hood  and  cloak,  with  a  pail  of 
bird-seed  on  her  arm,  and  a  dish  of  bread  crumbs  in  her  hand. 
As  they  flew  down,  she  said  : — 

**  And  here  are  some  more  birdies  who  have  come  for  a  Chris- 
mas  dinner.  Of  course  you  shall  have  some,  you  dear  little 
things!"  and  she  laughed  merrily  to  see  them  dive  for  the 
crumbs. 

After  they  had  finished  eating,  Elsie  (that  was  the  little  girl's 
name)  said:  *'  Now,  little  birds,  it  is  going  to  be  a  cold  winter, 
you  would  better  come  here  every  day  to  get  your  dinner.  I'll 
always  be  glad  to  see  you." 

*'Cheerup  chee-chee,  cheerup  chee  chee  !  thank  you,  thank 
you,"  cried  the  Robins. 

**  Ter-ra-lee,  ter-ra-lee,  ter-ra-lee  !  thank  you,  thank  you  !"  twit- 
tered Snow  Bunting. 

''Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee,  chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee,  chick-a- 
dee-dee-dee-dee-dee  !  how  kind  you  are  !  "  sang  the  Chickadees. 

And  Thistle  Goldfinch?  Yes,  he  remembered  his  summer 
song,  for  he  sang  as  they  flew  away  : —  . 

"  Swee-e-et  -  sweet  -  sweet  -  sweet-a-twitter- witter  -  witter-witter- 
wee-twea !" 

F.  E.  Mann. 

Notes.  1.  I  have  invariably  found  that  after  children  become  well  versed 
in  color,  they  are  unwilling  to  call  our  American  Robin,  "Robin  /?^a^ breast," 
but  prefer  either  "  Orange  breast  "  or  "  Rugty  breast." 

F.  E.  M. 

2.  The  Robin's  song  is  from  "  Bird  Talks,"  by  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney. 

3,  The  fact  upon  which  this  story  is  based, — that  is,  of  the  other  bird? 
adopting  and  warming    the    solitary  Thistle   Goldfinch, — was  observed    near 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  129 

Northampton,  Mass.,  where  robins  and  other  migratory  birds  sometimes  spend 
the  winter  in  the  thick  pine  woods.  '  This  should  be  explained  to  the  children, 
since  it  is  exceptional. 


PICCOLA* 


Poor  sweet  Piccola!     Did  you  hear 
What  happened  to  Piccola,  children  dear? 
'Tis  seldom  fortune  such  favor  grants 
As  fell  to  this  little  maid  of  France. 

'T  was  Christmas  time,  and  her  parents  poor 
Could  hardly  drive  the  wolf  from  the  door. 
Striving  with  poverty's  patient  pain, 
Only  to  live  until  summer  again. 

No  gifts  for  Piccola!   sad  w'-re  thw. 
When  dawned  the  mosiii-ig  of  Chrisxin.AS  day; 
Their  little  darling  no  ]oy  might  sxir, 
Saint  Nicholas  nobimg  would  bring  to  her. 

But  Piccola  did  not  doubt  at  all. 
That  something  beautiful  must  befall 
Every  child  upon  Christmas  day ; 
And  so  she  slept  till  the  dawn  was  gray. 

And  full  of  faith  when  at  last  she  woke, 
.  She  stole  to  her  shoe  as  the  morning  broke; 
Such  sounds  of  gladness  filled  the  air 
'T  was  plain  Saint  Nicholas  had  been  there. 

In  rushed  Piccola  sweet,  half  wild; 
Never  was  seen  such  a  joyful  child. 
''  See  what  the  good  saint  brought !  "  she  cried^ 
And  mother  and  father  must  peep  inside. 

Now  such  a  story  who  ever  heard? 
There  was  a  little  shivering  bird, 
A  sparrow  that  in  at  the  window  flew 
Had  crept  into  Piccola's  wooden  shoe] 


130 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


"  How  good  poor  Piccola  must  have  been!  " 
She  cried,  as  happy  as  any  queen ; 
While  the  starving  sparrow,  she  fed  and  warmed, 
She  danced  with  rapture,  she  was  so  charmed. 

Children,  this  story  I  tell  to  you 
Of  Piccola  sweet  and  her  bird,  is  true; 
In  the  f  ar-ofiE  land  of  France,  they  say. 
Still  do  they  live  to  this  very  day. 


Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


Celia  Thaxter. 


THE  NEW  YEAR. 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

Speak  of  the  last  time  the  children  and  teachers  met  together.  The  ten  days 
of  vacation  have  already  made  this  seem  long  ago  to  the  children;  for^  as 
Campbell  says: — 

"  A  day  to  childhood  seems  a  year, 

And  years  like  passing  ages." 

Encourage  reminiscences  of  the  Christmas  festival.     Unless  such  experiences 

are  recalled  again  and  again  they  will  have  no  lasting  effect  upon  the  child; 

while  the  habit  of  reviewing  past  delights  furnishes  the  mind  with  a  store  of 

happy  memories  and  tends  to  develop  a  permanent  joyousness  of  spirit. 


THE  TALK. 

(Speak  of  the  "new  day;"  the  verse  ''  Good  morning  to  the 
glad  new  day ' '  would  be  appropriate ;  then  of  Monday  as  the 
beginning  of  a  new  week.) 

"When  we  were  in  kindergarten  before  it  was  December ;  now 
it  is  January,  a  new  month.  So  now  we  have  a  new  day  of  a  new 
week  in  a  new  month.  And  more  than  that !  This  is  the  begin- 
ning of  a  New  Year  ! 

Did  any  of  the  children  know  when  it  was  New  Year's  Day? 
That  was  the  very  first  day  of  this  New  Year.  Can  any  one  tell 
the  name  of  the  old  year?  "We  called  it  1900.  That  means  that 
on  Christmas  it  was  1900  years  since  Jesus  was  born.  But  now 
another  year  is  beginning,  and  we  call  this  new  year  1901. 

A  new  day  comes  often,  does  it  not?  But  it  will  be  many, 
many  days  before  this  new  year  is  ended  and  another  begins. 

Let  us  think  about  the  Old  Year  and  talk  about  the  pleasant 
things  we  can  remember ; — Christmas,  Thanksgiving,  the  day  we 
came  back  to  kindergarten,  birthdays,  etc.,  etc. 


132 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


And  now  this  New  Year  1901  will  bring  us  just  such  happy- 
times  again.  It  will  bring  us  a  new  Spring  and  a  new  Summer 
and  a  new  Autumn  and  a  new  Winter.  (Remind  the  children  of 
some  of  the  beauties  and  pleasures  of  each  season  as  it  is  men- 
tioned.) The  New  Year  brings  us  a  great  many  new  days — 
days  to  work  and  play  in,  and  to  grow  in.  Do  you  know  that 
there  are  three  ways  for  us  to  grow?  There  are — three  ways  : — 
to  grow  big,  to  grow  wise,  to  grow  good.  You  know  what  it  is 
to  grow  big,  and  to  grow  good  ;  do  you  know  what  it  is  to  grow 
wise?  It  is  to  learn  all  we  can  about  everything  in  this  beautiful 
world,  and  to  understand  things  better,  and  to  know  more  and 
more.  It  is  very  well  to  grow  big,  and  better  yet  to  grow  wise, 
but  best  of  all  to  grow  good. 

This  New  Year  will  give  us  a  great  many  chances  to  grow  in 
all  these  three  ways:  How  many  things  we  have  spoken  of  that 
the  New  Year  will  bring  us  !  No  wonder  we  are  glad  to  have  it 
come  !  And  just  as  we  say  **  good  morning  "  to  each  other  every 
day,  so  we  say  ''  Happy  New  Year  "  to  our  friends  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  New  Year. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 


The  Death  of  the  Old  Year, Temyson 

Ring  Out,  Wild  Bells  ("In  Memoriam"), Tennyson 

Midnight  Mass  of  the  Dying  Year, Longfellow 

Pippa  Passes, R.  Browning 

Next  Year, -        Ncm  Perry 

The  Two  Roads, Jean  Paul  Richter 

*  A  New  Year's  Bargain, Susam  Coolidge 

*  The  Twelve  Months, «--  Labonlaye 

For  the  Children. 

Irene  and  the  Yesterdays, ""  St.  Nicholas,''  1 873 

The  New  Year's  Cake, '' St,  Nicholas;' January,  }  893 

♦  Something  suitable  for  re-telling  could  perhaps  be  gleaned  from  these  stories. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  133 


STORffiS. 
An  AII-thc-Ycar-Round  Story. 

If  you  had  only  been  in  the  right  place  at  the  right  time  and 
had  looked  in  the  right  direction,  you  might  have  seen  all  this 
yourself ;  but  since  not  one  of  you  was  anywhere  near  the  Palace 
of  the  Future  when  its  great  doors  swung  slowly  open,  you  did 
not  see  the  people — one,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight, 
nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve  of  them — as  they  came  out.  But  they 
did  come,  nevertheless,  and  looked  about  them  in  a  puzzled  way 
as  if  they  did  not  know  what  to  do  or  where  to  go. 

Before  they  had  much  time  to  wonder,  however,  an  old  man 
stepped  forward  and  greeted  them  heartily. 

*'  Glad  to  see  you,  friends  !  Glad  to  see  you.  I  knew  you 
would  come  if  I  sent  for  you.  One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six, 
seven,  eight,  nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve.  That's  right,  you  are  all 
here.  And  now  I  suppose  you  would  like  to  know  why  I  sent 
for  you,  wouldn't  you?  " 

The  twelve  friends  said  they  would  indeed. 

**Look,  then,"  said  Father  Time,  for  that  was  the  old  man's 
name,  and  he  opened  his  big  cloak  which  he  had  been  holding 
close  about  him. 

The  twelve  crowded  near  to  see,  and  what  they  saw  was  well 
worth  looking  at,  for  it  was  a  dear,  sweet,  tiny  baby,  laughing 
and  cooing  and  stretching  up  its  pretty  hands  to  be  taken. 

**  There  !  "  said  Father  Time,  "that's  my  youngest  child  and 
his  name  is  1901.  I  do  not  want  him  to  be  all  alone  during  his 
visit  upon  the  earth,  and  besides  there  are  so  many  things  to  be 
sent  with  him  that  he  could  not  possibly  carry  them  all." 

'*  Oh  !  I'll  go  with  him  !  "  -  And  I !  "  "And  I !  "  shouted 
the  twelve  in  chorus. 

"Softly,  softly,"  said  Father  Time.  "You  cannot  all  go  at 
once,  but  you  shall  each  have  your  turn.  You  shall  each  carry 
something  for  little  1901.  My  storehouse  is  right  here  and  we 
can  plan  now  what  you  shall  each  take,  so  as  to  have  no  confu- 
sion later.     Come,  January,  you  must  be  the  first." 


134  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

**  Then  I  will  carry  this  banner,"  said  January  ;  and  he  brought 
a  beautiful  silken  flag  from  the  storehouse.  On  it  was  **  Happy 
New  Year"  in  flashing  golden  letters.  January  had  also  a  large 
pack  upon  his  back.  This  was  full  of  snow,  with  which  he  in- 
tended to  make  coasts  for  the  children. 

**  February  !  "  called  Father  Time,  and  a  little  fellow  stepped 
forward  from  the  group  and  ran  into  the  storehouse.  Presently 
he  came  out  with  a  package  of  valentines  in  one  hand  and  George 
Washington's  picture  in  the  other.  *'You  have  chosen  well," 
said  Father  Time  ;  'Valentines  for  fun,  and  George  Washington's 
picture  to  remind  people  of  that  good  man." 

''  March  !  "  **  March  where?  "  said  February.  *'  March  !  " 
said  Father  Time,  a  trifle  sternly.  *'  Oh  !  excuse  me,"  said  Feb- 
ruary, skipping  off  to  talk  with  January. 

March  was  rather  a  wild  looking  fellow,  and  very  noisy  and 
blustering ;  but  he  showed  that  he  had  a  good  heart  and  liked  to 
make  people  happy,  for  when  he  came  out  of  the  storehouse,  be- 
•hold  !  he  had  chosen  kites  for  the  children  to  fly,  a  big  bunch  of 
silvery  pussy  willows,  and  a  few — a  very  few — flowers,  just  one  or 
two  daffodils  and  crocuses  and  some  spears  of  green  grass. 
**But  see,"  said  he,  *'and  listen!  This  is  my  greatest  treasure 
and  what  will  be  best  loved,"  and  there  was  a  warbling  bluebird 
perched  upon  his  hand. 

**  April!"  called  Father  Time.  April  danced  forth  from  the 
waiting  group,  curtsied  to  Father  Time,  and  ran  to  the  store- 
house. She  brought  out  a  lapful  of  violets,  a  flock  of  robins,^ 
and  a  picture  of  Friedrich  Froebel.  ** Right,  right!"  said 
Father  Time,  nodding  approvingly;  "that  picture  belongs  to 
you,  and  Friedrich  Froebel  is  another  good  man  whom  the  chil- 
dren should  learn  about  and  love.  And  now.  May,  my  dear,  run 
in  and  choose  your  burden."  Another  pretty  maiden  answered 
this  call ;  and  a  beautiful  sight  she  was,  especially  after  she  had 
been  in  the  storehouse.  She  was  laden  with  apple  blossoms  and 
wreaths,  and  carried  a  long  pole ;  and  she  walked  to  the  sound 
of  music,  for  velvety  bees  hummed  about  her  and  birds  of  many 
kinds  filled  the  air  with  their  warbling. 

"  Music  and  dancing  and  flowers  !  "  said  May.  '*  The  children 
shall  have  a  merry  time  when  I  am  with  them." 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  135 

**  Have  you  forgotten  the  soldiers?"  asked  Father  Time. 

'*0h!  no/'  said  May,  a  tender  look  upon  her  bright  face. 
**  The  most  and  best  of  my  flowers  are  for  Memorial  Day.*' 

May  took  her  place  with  those  who  had  gone  before,  and 
Father  Time  called  June,  saying:  ** Hasten  all  you  can,  dear 
June,  for  there  are  still  many  to  follow  you." 

So  June  made  no  delay  in  choosing,  but  chose  well,  neverthe- 
less, for  she  brought  roses — roses  in  such  profusion  that  one 
could  scarcely  see  her  lovely  face  peeping  out  from  among  the 
flowery  branches.  '*  Strawberries,  too,  good  Father  Time,"  said 
June ;  I  couldn't  resist  taking  the  strawberries,  too." 

Father  Time  smiled  fondly.  People  always  smile  upon  June, 
for  every  one  loves  her. 

''  July  !  "  called  Father  Time. 

Into  the  storehouse  and  out  again  in  a  thrice  bounded  a  lively 
boy.  **  The  minute  I  saw  these  I  knew  they  were  what  I 
wanted,"  said  he,  showing  Father  Time  a  package  of  fireworks 
and  waving  an  American  flag. 

''  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Father  Time,  '*  that's  right !  But  have  you 
also  the  book  of  American  history?  "  **  Here  it  is,"  said  July  ; 
''these  things  were  fastened  to  it,  so  I  brought  them  all  along 
together." 

''Right  again,"  said  Father  Time.  "Flags  and  fireworks 
wouldn't  be  of  much  account  without  that.  Now,  August,  see 
what  you  would  like  from  the  storehouse." 

August  returned  with  golden  sheaves  bound  upon  his  back, 
and  carrying  a  great  flower-decked  basket. 

"In  the  basket  I  have  put  as  much  fruit  as  I  can  possibly 
carry,"  said  August ;  "  and  yet  there  is  so  much  left  that  who-. 
ever  takes  the  rest  will  have  a  rich  load." 

"That  shall  be  you,  September,"  said  Father  Time.  "Noth- 
ing would  suit  you  better,  I  am  sure,  with  your  warm  heart  and 
your  strong  arms." 

September  accordingly  loaded  himself  with  beautiful  fruits — 
apples,  pears,  peaches,  grapes — not  a  whit  less  delicious  than 
those  which  August  had  brought. 

October  was  next  called.     He  was  a  gay,  breezy  fellow.     "  Ha, 


^'^^  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


ha !  "  he  laughed.     ''Who  will  be  welcomed  more  than  I,  with 
these  ripe  nuts  and  these  beautiful  colored  leaves  !  " 

*'My  faith  !  "  said  Father  Time.  *'  I  fear  my  storehouse  has 
no  more  treasures,  each  one  of  you  has  taken  so  much.  Go  and 
look,  November." 

November  came  forward  rather  sadly,  but  looked  cheerful 
enough  after  his  return  from  the  storehouse.  He  fairly  staggered 
under  the  weight  of  the  golden  pumpkins  and  the  big  fat  tur- 
keys which  he  carried.  *' What  do  you  say  to  these?"  said  he, 
triumphantly.  "  But  the  best  thing  is  in  my  pocket — a  paper 
which  tells  that  Thanksgiving  day  belongs  to  me." 

"  True  enough,"  assented  Father  Time.  **  And  now,  Decem- 
ber," said  he,  turning  to  the  last  waiting  figure,  **  you,  I  know, 
will  find  no  warbling  birds  nor  budding  flowers;  yet  are  you, 
above  all  others,  a  joy  bearer." 

December  disappeared  in  the  storehouse  ;  but  soon  stepped  out 
transfigured.  No  warbling  birds  had  she,  indeed,  but  lacked  not 
for  music  ;  for  snatches  of  gladdest  carols  burst  from  her  lips  from 
time  to  time.  No  fresh  flowers  bloomed  for  her  in  beauty  and 
fragrance,  but  holly  berries  gleamed  brightly  among  glossy  green 
leaves  and  a  delicious  odor  came  from  the  little  fir  tree  which  she 
carried  over  her  shoulder.  Looking  up,  one  could  see  a  large 
star  which  shed  its  silvery  rays  upon  her. 

But  the  wondrous  light  that  shone  all  about  was  not  from 
star  or  moon  or  sun,  but  from  a  picture  in  her  hand  upon  which 
she  fixed  her  gaze.     The  picture  was  of  a  baby  lying  in  a  manger. 

Father  Time's  eyes  softened  as  he  looked  upon  it,  and  his  voice 
was  full  of  love  as  he  said  :  *'  Ah  !  the  best  of  days  and  the  best  of 
gifts  is  yours,  December.  Fitting  it  is  that  you  should  be  the 
last  and  that  the  love  and  joy  which  you  bear  should  be  left 
to  the  earth  as  the  last  memory  of  1901.  For  so  it  shall  be ; 
1901  shall  stay  no  longer  than  to  your  last  day.  And  now,  friends 
all,"  said  Father  Time,  **will  you  kindly  form  in  a  procession  so 
that  each  may  know  certainly  when  his  turn  will  come?  " 

The  twelve  laden  friends  did  as  Father  time  requested  and 
filed  slowly  past  him.  He  called  their  names  as  they  went  by, 
that  there  should  be  no  mistake :  (January,  February,  March, 
etc.)     All  were  in  their  right  places. 


FATHER  TIME'S  PROCESSION. 


137 


138  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

**  The  hour  draws  near/'  said  Father  Time.  '*  Hark  !  "  it  is 
striking  !  Here,  January,  take  the  little  New  Year  in  your  arms. 
Farewell !  "  And  lo  !  at  the  instant  that  the  clock  finished  strik- 
ing the  midnight  hour,  January  and  1901  appeared  upon  the 
earth. 

And  all  the  other  friends  laden  with  their  beautiful  gifts  went 
back  into  the  Palace  of  the  Future  and  are  only  awaiting  their 
turn  to  come  and  bless  the  earth  with  their  bounty. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


The  Fairy^s  New  Year  Gift* 

Two  little  boys  were  at  play  one  day  when  a  fairy  suddenly 
appeared  to  them  and  said:  *'I  have  been  sent  to  give  you  a 
New  Year  present." 

She  handed  to  each  child  a  package,  and,  at  the  same  instant, 
was  gone. 

Carl  and  Philip  opened  the  packages  and  found  the  same  thing 
in  each — a  beautiful  book  with  white  pages,  as  pure,  white,  and 
beautiful  as  the  snow  when  it  first  falls. 

After  a  long  time,  the  fairy  came  again  to  the  boys.  ''  I  have 
brought  you  each  a  new  book,"  she  said,  **  and  will  take  back  the 
others  to  Father  Time,  who  sent  them  to  you." 

"  May  I  not  keep  mine  a  little  longer?  "  said  Philip ;  *'  I  have 
hardly  thought  about  it  lately.  I'd  like  to  paint  something  on 
the  last  page  that  lies  open." 

*'  No,"  said  the  fairy,  "1  must  take  it  just  as  it  is." 

**  I  wish  I  could  look  through  mine  just  once  ! "  said  Carl.  "  I 
have  only  seen  one  page  at  a  time  ;  for  when  a  leaf  turns  over,  it 
sticks  fast,  and  I  never  can  open  the  book  at  more  than  one 
pla^e." 

'*  You  shall  look  over  your  book,"  said  the  fairy,  **  and  Philip 
his."  And  she  lit  for  each  of  them  a  little  silver  lamp,  by  the 
light  of  which  they  saw  the  pages  as  she  turned  them. 

The  boys  looked  in  wonder.  Could  it  be  that  this  was  the  same 
fair  book  she  had  given  them  a  year  ago?     Where  were  the  pure 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  139 

white  pages,  as  pure,  white  and  beautiful  as  the  snow  when  it 
first  falls?  Here  was  a  page  with  ugly  black  blots  and  scratches 
upon  it ;  while  the  very  next  page  had  a  lovely  little  picture. 
Some  pages  were  decorated  with  gold  and  silver  and  gorgeous 
colors,  others  with  beautiful  flowers,  and  others  still  with  a  rain- 
bow of  softest,  most  delicate  brightness.  Yet  even  on  the  most 
beautiful  of  the  pages  there  were  those  ugly  blots  and  scratches. 

Carl  and  Philip  looked  up  at  the  fairy  at  last. 

**Who  did  this?"  they  asked.  **  Every  page  was  white  and 
fair  as  we  opened  to  it ;  yet  now  there  is  not  a  single  blank  space 
in  the  whole  book  !  " 

**  Shall  I  explain  some  of  the  pictures  to  you?  ''  said  the  fairy, 
smiling  at  the  two  little  boys.  "  See,  Philip,  the  spray  of 
roses  blossomed  on  this  page  when  you  let  the  baby  have  your 
playthings ;  and  this  pretty  bird  which  looks  so  cunning  and  as 
if  it  were  singing  with  all  its  might,  would  never  have  been  on 
this  page  if  you  had  not  tried  to  be  kind  and  pleasant  the  other 
day  instead  of  quarreling.'* 

**  But  what  makes  this  blot?  "  asked  Philip. 

"That,"  said  the  fairy  sadly,  *Hhat  came  when  you  told  an 
untruth  one  day ;  and  this  when  you  did  not  mind  mamma.  All 
these  blots  and  scratches,  that  look  so  ugly  both  on  your  book 
and  on  Carl's,  were  made  when  you  were  naughty  in  any  way  and 
did  not  obey  your  mamma  or  papa  or  your  teacher.  Each  pretty 
thing  in  your  books  came  on  the  page  when  you  were  good,  and 
each  blot  when  you  were  naughty." 

'*  Oh  !  if  we  could  only  have  the  books  again  !  "  said  Carl  and 
Philip. 

*' That  cannot  be,"  said  the  fairy.  *'See  !  they  are  marked 
*  1900  '  and  they  must  now  go  back  into  Father  Time's  bookcase  ; 
but  I  have  brought  you  each  a  new  one.  Perhaps  you  can  make 
these  more  beautiful  than  the  others." 

So  saying,  she  vanished,  and  the  boys  were  left  alone  ;  but  each 
held  in  his  hand  a  new  book  open  at  the  first  page. 

And  on  the  back  of  this  book  was  "1901."  It  was  the  book 
of  the  New  Year. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


THE  CAT 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


The  choice  of  the  cat  as  the  first  animal  to  be  studied  in  the  kindergarten 
scarcely  needs  justification,  since  the  cat  is  the  most  aniversally  familiar  of  all 
animals  to  the  children,  and  therefore  one  by  which  we  can  lead  to  the  notice 
of  others.  Being  so  familiar,  most  of  the  items  of  description  should  be  ob- 
tained from  the  children,  the  teacher  only  supplementing  their  observations. 

A  live  cat  is  so  easily  obtainable  that  one  ought  certainly  to  be  present  when 
the  talk  is  given. 

The  other  members  of  the  cat  family  being  so  far  outside  the  experience  of 
most  of  the  kindergarten  children,  and  there  being  so  much  to  'talk  about  in 
this  one  individual  member,  I  omitted  mentioning  them,  although  I  should  pre- 
fer to  call  attention  to  them  if  the  children  are  ready  for  it;  showing  them  that 
the  lion,  the  tiger,  the  leopard,  lynx,  etc.,  have  the  same  characteristics  v/hich 
Pussy  manifests,  that  they  are  light,  stealthy,  silent  of  foot,  quick  of  ear  and 
eye,  swift  to  attack, — "carnivorous,  beautiful  and  often  terrible." 


THE  TALK. 


(In  the  New  Year's  talk  the  subject  of  growth  was  touched 
upon  and  might  therefore  be  used  as  the  point  of  connection  be- 
tween last  week's  talk  and  this  one.) 

We  spoke  of  the  New  Year  bringing  us  chances  to  grow.  Can 
the  children  tell  other  things  that  grow  besides  little  boys  and 
girls?  (They  will  probably  think  first  of  plants,  since  their  atten- 
tion has  been  called  to  them  so  often  and  the  fact  of  a  plant's 
growth  is  so  evident ;  but  a  little  suggestive  questioning  will  bring 
animals  to  mind.) 

Which  children  have  pussy  cats  at  home  ?  Who  has  a  big  cat  ? 
Was  it  always  a  big  cat?  No,  it  has  grown  from  a  wee,  baby 
kitten.     What  can  you  tell  about  the  cats  you  have  at  home  or 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  141 

have  seen  anywhere?  (Question  the  children  separately,  appeal 
to  the  quiet  ones  sometimes,  as  well  as  receiving  what  the  talka- 
tive ones  offer. 

Pussy  has  four  legs,  along  tail, — what  kind  of  a  coat?  Fur 
coat  of  different  colors,  made  of  hairs  growing  very,  very  close 
together.  How  smooth  it  is  when  you  stroke  it !  As  you  pass 
your  hand  along  her  back  you  can  feel  something  hard,  can  you 
not  ?  That  is  Pussy' s  backbone .  When  you  look  at  Pussy's  head, 
what  do  you  see?     Eyes,  ears,  nose,  mouth,  whiskers. 

Can  Pussy  see  well?  How  does  she  find  the  mice  in  the  dark 
night?  (Call  attention  to  the  little  round,  black  spots  in  people's 
eyes.  The  children  might  observe  it  in  each  other's  eyes.) 
The  little  black  spot  is  a  window  which  lets  the  light  in  so  that 
we  can  see.  In  Pussy's  eye  the  window  is  of  a  different  shape. 
(In  addition  to  letting  the  children  observe  the  cat's  eyes,  have 
two  pictures  drawn  on  the  blackboard  representing  the  cat's 
eye  in  daylight  and  in  darkness.)  When  Pussy  is  in  the  dark, 
the  window  in  her  eye  stretches  out  into  so  much  larger  a  win- 
dow that  she  gets  light  enough  to  see  by,  where  we  could  scarcely 
see  at  all. 

How  many  ears  has  Pussy?  Are  they  like  our  ears?  No,  they 
stand  up  above  her  Head  and  have  pointed  tips.  Where  are 
Pussy's  whiskers?  They  are  feelers  to  help  her  in  the  dark. 
What  has  pussy  in  her  cunning  little  red  mouth?  Sharp  teeth 
and  a  tongue.  Her  tongue  is  a  wonderful  thing.  Pussy  can 
make  it  like  a  spoon  when  she  wants  to  lap  the  milk  with  it.  Did 
you  ever  notice  how  she  will  take  up  every  drop  of  milk  in  the 
saucer?  But  Pussy's  tongue  is  something  else  besides  a  spoon. 
Haven't  you  seen  her  wash  herself  and  make  her  fur  coat  all 
smooth?  What  does  she  do  it  with?  This  same  little  red  tongue. 
If  you  feel  of  it,  you  will  find  it  very  rough.  That  is  because 
it  is  covered  with  tiny  hooks,  so  small  you  cannot  see  them.  But 
there  are  a  great  many  of  them  and  when  Pussy  draws  her  tongue 
over  her  fur,  these  little  hooks  comb  the  fur  nicely  down  and 
make  it  all  clean  and  smooth.  What  she  cannot  reach  with  her 
tongue,  she  does  with  her  paws,  first  wetting  the  stiff  hairs  on 
the  end  of  them. 

Pussy  has  four  feet,  you  told  me.     Does  she  make  much  noise 


142  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

when  she  -walks?  No,  she  can  go  along  very,  very  quietly  because 
she  has  little  cushions  on  her  feet.  By  and  by  we  will  play 
**  Kitty  White"  and  see  who  can  walk  as  quietly  as  a  real 
Pussy  does. 

If  you  tease  Pussy  and  hurt  her,  what  will  she  do?  Yes,  she 
will  scratch  you,  for  she  does  not  like  to  be  hurt. 

What  does  she  scratch  with?  Sharp  claws.  A  little  girl  who 
was  playing  with  a  cat  once  said,  **  Oh  !  Pussy  has  pins  in  her  feet. ' ' 


Under  side  «SKowinof  dv^^. 

Of  course  it  was  Pussy's  claws  that  the  little  girl  felt.  But  if  you 
are  always  gentle  and  kind  when  you  play  with  Pussy  she  will 
not  scratch  you.  She  will  pull  her  claws  in  and  hide  them 
so  that  you  would  never  know  she  had  any  claws  at  all. 

Did  you  ever  see  a  mother  cat  with  her  little  kittens?  How 
she  loves  them  and  watches  them  and  teaches  them,  doesn't  she? 
Before  they  can  walk,  the  baby  kittens  get  milk  from  the  mother ; 
but  they  soon  learn  to  drink  milk  from  a  saucer.  The  mother 
cat  washes  and  combs  the  fur  of  her  baby  kittens,  too,  with  her 
rough  little  tongue. 

(Speak  of  the  usefulness  of  the  cat  in  frightening  away  from 
our  houses  the  rats  and  mice  which  would  otherwise  be  so  trouble- 
some. Also  speak  of  the  cat's  love  of  home,  and  affectionate 
disposition.) 


THE  CAT. 


143 


144 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Natural  History, J.  G.  Wood 

Winners  in  Life's  Race  (Chap.  IX),         -        -        -         -        Arabella  Buckley 
An  Object  of  Love,  -,____-        Mary  E,  Wilkins 

Agrippina,        -        -        -         -        -        -        -        -        --  Agnes  Repplier 

The  Kitten  at  Play    -        -         -  Wordsworth 

The  Retired  Cat  (A  Story), Cowper 

The  Glove,       ...--.----/?.  Browning 

For  the  Children. 

Pussy's  Class, --    Mary  Mapes  Dodge 

Purring  when  you're  pleased, Mrs.  Catty 

Dick  Whittington  and  his  Cat, Old  Story 

Mrs.  Chinchilla  ("The  Story  Hour")       -        -        -        -          Kate  D.  Wiggin 
Belling  the  Cat, y^sop 


STORES* 


My  Jet. — A  True  Cat  Story 


I  am  afraid  Jet  was  a  little  cross  at  times ;  yes,  I  am  sure  he 
was,  and  I — one  of  his  most  intimate  friends — ought  to  know. 

It  was  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  that  we  had  this  cat  called  Jet,  a 
great,  shining,  black  creature .  I  loved  Jet,  oh  !  very  much  indeed  ! 
and  I  think  he  liked  me  a  little  ;  but  he  was  never  so  fond  of  me  as 
he  was  of  my  mother.  I  liked  to  hold  Jet  in  my  lap,  and  to  smooth 
his  soft  fur,  but  he  would  soon  tire  of  me  and  jump  down.  I 
never  tried  to  hold  him  after  he  was  tired,  for  he  had  a  very  bad 
habit  of  growling  and  showing  his  teeth. 

Jet  was  not  at  all  fond  of  company  either,  which  troubled  me 
greatly,  because  I  was  always  pleased  to  have  visitors  come  to  the 
house.  He  would  run  away  and  hide,  and  if  I  tried  to  coax  him 
out  of  his  hiding  place  he  would  growl  and  put  up  his  back  and 
say:  **Scx!  sex! " 

And  if  another  cat  came  into  our  yard — oh  !  you  should  have 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  145 


seen  Jet  then  !  He  did  not  wau  to  put  up  his  back,  but,  taking 
one  look  at  the  stranger,  darted  away  in  full  chase  after  him. 
All  the  cats  of  the  neighborhood  soon  learned  that  they  must 
never  do  more  than  run  across  our  back  fence,  and  the  more 
swiftly  they  could  run  across,  the  better  for  them. 

But,  by  and  by,  all  this  changed.  I  never  understood  just  how 
the  acquaintance  began,  but  a  poor,  forlorn  old  cat,  with  one  ear 
gone  and  a  part  of  his  tail  missing,  came  to  live  with  Jet.  Yes  ! 
Jet,  who  had  never  allowed  another  cat  within  fifty  feet  of  our 
house,  took  this  friendless  stranger  under  his  care,  let  him  share 
his  bread  and  milk,  and  even  permitted  him  to  sleep  in  the  soft 
bed  which  had  been  made  especially  for  Jet's  own  use  in  a  box 
under  the  back  porch.  Little  by  little  Jet's  nature  changed, 
until  he  became  so  gentle  that  he  would  lie  sleepily  on  the 
door-mat  and  only  wink  when  other  cats  wished  to  cross  the  yard. 

I  used  to  think  that  as  the  tramp  cat  and  Jet  lay  together  after 
dinner  in  the  sunshine,  old  Tramper  would  chat  between  naps  with 
his  younger  friend.  He  would  tell  Jet  how  glad  he  ought  to  be 
that  he  had  always  had  such  a  good  home,  and  that  he  ought  to  be 
getting  wiser  as  he  grew  older ;  and  that  wise  people  do  not  like 
to  growl  and  to  be  cross  and  quarrelsome.  They  are  cheerful 
and  happy,  and  like  to  see  others  have  good  times. 

I  felt  sure  that  Tramper,  as  I  called  him,  used  to  talk  in  this  way 
to  Jet,  although  I  never  could  catch  him  saying  anything ;  when- 
ever I  came  near  they  would  both  doze  or  pretend  to  be  fast  asleep, 
or,  at  any  rate,  not  talk  so  that  I  could  understand.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  I  do  know  that  Jet  was  better  as  an  old  cat 
than  ever  he  was  as  a  kitten;  and  that  his  growing  better 
dated  from  the  time  when  he  was  kind  to  poor,  friendless 
Tramper. 

M.  V.  GiLLIN. 


A  Kitten  Rhyme. 

See  my  Kitty, — 
Little  Dot;— 

Very  pretty, 
Is  she  not? 

So£t  and  silky 


146  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

Is  her  fur; 
If  you  stroke  it 

She  will  purr. 
Dot  won't  hurt  you 

With  her  claws; 
Keeps  them  hidden 

In  her  paws. 
She's  all  white  but 

One  wee  spot, 
That  is  why  her 

Name  is  Dot. 
Often  when  my 

Grandma  knits, 
Close  teside  her 

Kitty  sits, 
Watching,  watching 

Grandma's  ball, 
Wishing  she  would 

Let  it  fall. 
When  it  does  drop, 

Oh!  the  fun! 
You  should  see  he«r 

Dot  can  run! 
Dot  has  never 

Caught  a  rat; 
She's  too  little 

Yet  for  that; 
She  is  only 

Good  at  play 
But  she'll  catch  tV' 

Rats  some  day. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


Spotty^s  Family^ 

Once  "we  had  a  beautiful  cat  with  blue  eyes  and  a  coat  ot  soft 
fur  -which  was  entirely  white,  except  for  a  black  tip  on  the  tail 
and  a  black  spot  over  each  eye.  We  called  her  Spotty,  and  she 
was  a  great  pet  in  the  household. 

"When  my  brother  played  on  the  violin  in  the  evening,  Spotty, 
who  was  always  in  the  parlor  at  that  time,  would  try  to  catch 
the  shadow  of  his  bow  on  the  door.  Why  she  could  not  catch  it 
puzzled  her  greatly ;  but,  of  course,  she  never  did. 

At  meal-times  she  was  allowed  to  sit  in  my  brother's  lap,  but  she 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  147 

never  lifted  her  head  above  the  table,  even  when  he  was  eating 
fish,  of  which,  you  know,  cats  are  very  fond. 

Spotty  had  four  kittens.  One  was  white,  one  black,  one  gray, 
and  one  looked  just  like  Spotty.  She  kept  them  on  a  carpet  bed 
under  the  front  doorstep.  When  Spotty  chose  this  place,  she 
thought  it  would  be  very  safe  and  comfortable  for  her  babies, 
but  it  did  not  prove  so.  One  day,  before  the  kittens  were  old 
enough  to  open  their  eyes,  there  came  a  cold  rainstorm.  Down 
poured  the  water  through  a  crack  between  the  doorstep  and  the 
house,  and  poor  Spotty  found  that  her  babies  were  getting  wet. 
I  suppose  she  said  to  herself :  **Mew  !  Mew  !  What  shall  I  do? 
It  is  not  good  for  such  little  babies  to  be  wet.  Let  me  see — 
Whitie,  I'll  put  you  into  this  little  comer  where  the  rain  does 
not  come.  Blackie,  I'll  wrap  you  in  the  carpet.  Gray  lie,  I  can 
cover  you  with  my  body.  But  what  shall  I  do  with  my  poor 
little  Spotty.  I  know  you  are  uncomfortable,  dear  child,  but 
what  can  I  do?  Ah  !  I  know  !  I  wiU  call  the  master ;  he  will  take 
care  of  my  babies  !  " 

I  suppose  that  is  what  Spotty  said  to  herself;  at  any  rate,  as 
we  sat  in  the  parlor  we  heard  a  loud  mewing.  My  brother  ran 
out  and  found  Spotty  and  her  family  just  as  I  have  described 
them  to  you,  under  the  doorstep  in  the  wet.  He  took  up  the 
kittens  and  carried  them  into  the  house.  Spotty  followed,  purr- 
ing loudly  and  rubbing  against  his  legs,  which  was  her  way  of 
saying  :   "  Thank  you,  master,  for  saving  my  babies." 

Although  poor  Spotty' s  fur  was  wet  through,  she  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  herself,  but  stood  and  watched  while  he  rubbed  the  kit- 
tens dry,  wrapped  them  up  in  warm  flannel,  and  laid  them  by  the 
stove.  Then  she  went  to  the  stove  also,  and  began  to  lick  her 
fur.  Before  long,  the  heat  of  the  fire  and  the  use  of  her  tongue 
had  dried  her  coat  nicely,  so  that  she  could  lie  down  beside  her 
babies.  They  nestled  up  to  her  as  if  they  were  very  glad  to  have 
their  mother  again. 

After  the  storm  was  over,  my  brother  made  another  bed  for 
them  in  a  place  where  the  rain  could  not  come,  and  Spotty  had 
no  more  trouble  in  bringing  up  her  family. 

Josephine  Jarvis. 

Cobden,  III, 


THE  HORSE 

To  THE  Teacher: — 

We  cannot,  of  course,  make  anything 
like  an  exhaustive  study  of  any  subject 
which  we  take  up.  Agassiz's  whole  life- 
time and  all  his  intellectual  power  were 
inadequate  to  the  one  creature — the  fish — 
to  which  he  devoted  them;  and  the  Greek 
professor  who  had  been  absorbed  in  the 
study  of  Greek  grammar  all  his  life  regret- 
ted on  his  death-bed  that  he  had  not  con- 
fined himself  closely  to  one  of  the  Greek 
particles ! 

Hopeless  indeed  would  be  our  task  if  the 
only  result  aimed  at  were  the  actual  knowledge  which  the  children  could 
formulate  after  our  talks.  But  we  can  hope  to  increase  their  interest  in  the 
wonders  that  surround  them  and  to  train  them  to  observant  habits  of  mind.  So, 
although  we  must  take  all  manner  of  pains  to  have  our  knowledge  accurate  and 
thorough,  in  order  that  whatever  impression  is  made  upon  the  children  shall  be 
correct,  we  must  ever  remember  that  our  object  is  to  lead  to  observation,  not  to 
formulation. 


THE  TALK. 

(Begin  t^e  talk  with  a  few  review  questions  on  the  cat,  so  that 
some  of  the  salient  points  will  be  fresh  in  the  children's  minds. 
These  points  would  be  that  the  cat  has  a  backbone,  gives  milk  to 
its  little  ones.,  has  four  feet,  ears  that  stand  up,  eyes  that  can  see 
in  the  dark  and  skin  covered  with  hair,  and  is  affectionate  and 
useful. 

Having  thus  established  a  basis  for  comparison  of  the  two  ani- 
mals, let  some  child  go  to  the  window  and  tell  what  animal  he 
sees.  If  a  dog  is  spoken  of,  notice  the  same  points,  though  not 
dwelling  at  length  upon  this  animal. 

A  horse  will  doubtless  soon  be   spied  from  the  window.     Let 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  149 

the  description  be  given  by  different  children,  each  child  contrib- 
uting an  item. 

As  the  items  are  given,  lead  to  comparison,  noticing  both  like- 
nesses and  differences.)  The  horse  has  four  feet.  Is  that  like 
the  cat?  like  the  dog?  like  a  man?  like  a  bird? 

When  Pussy  walks,  does  she  make  much  noise  ?  Suppose  one 
of  those  horses  out  in  the  street  should  come  into  the  kindergar- 
ten and  walk  about,  could  we  hear  him?  What  makes  the 
difference?  Yes ;  the  horse  is  so  big  and  heavy,  that  is  one  rea- 
son ;  and  another  reason  is  that  he  has  iron  shoes  on  his  feet 
instead  of  just  little  soft  cushions.  Those  little  cushions  grow 
on  Pussy's  feet ;  do  the  iron  shoes  grow  on  the  horse's  feet?  Who 
makes  the  horse's  shoes?  If  the  horse  had  no  shoes  on,  could  he 
step  as  softly  as  Pussy?  No  ;  because  he  is  heavier,  and  because 
his  hoofs  are  hard  and  would  make  a  noise.  What  are  his  hoofs? 
(Probably  none  of  the  children  have  seen  a  horse's  foot  without 
a  shoe  on.  If  a  picture  can  be  obtained,  show  it  while  making 
the  explanation.) 

Look  at  the  ends  of  your  fingers.  What  do  you  see  there? 
Yes,  finger-nails.  And  what  does  Pussy  have  on  her  feet  besides 
the  cushions?  Yes,  sharp  claws.  Now  the  horse's  hoof  is  some- 
thing like  our  finger-nails  and  Pussy's  claws,  only  very  much 
larger  and  thicker  and  harder  and  stronger.  So,  if  the  horse 
should  walk  into  the  kindergarten,  even  without  his  iron  shoes  on, 
we  could  hear  him  because  of  his  hard  hoofs. 

What  is  the  shape  of  the  horse's  face?  Where  are  the  horse's 
eyes?  He  can  see  in  front,  at  the  side,  and  far  back  at  the  side  ; 
and  can  see  in  faintest  twilight  also,  though  his  eyes  are  not  like 
Pussy's.  Instead  of  feeling  about  with  whiskers,  the  horse  feels 
with  his  lips — can  pick  up  even  shortest  grass  by  their  help. 

What  is  the  horse's  tail  made  of?  Is  it  of  any  use?  Where  is 
his  mane?  Is  that  of  any  use?  What  does  the  horse  eat? 
Fresh  green  grass,  hay,  oats,  bran,  etc.  Where  do  they  come 
from?  Yes,  they  grow.  Who  plants  the  oats?  Who  cuts  the 
grass?  Does  the  horse  do  anything  for  the  farmer?  What  other 
work  can  horses  do?  Watch  the  horses  in  the  street  and  see 
what  you  can  find  out  to  tell  us  about  them — what  color  they 
are,  what  kind  of  work  they  are  doing,  how  they  are  fastened  to 


150  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

the  carts  and  wagons  which  they  draw ;  perhaps  your  mamma  or 
papa  will  tell  you  a  story  about  a  horse. 

(Draw  the  children's  attention  to  the  intelligence  of  the  horse 
by  telling  how  the  wild  horses  go  in  troops,  little  colts  and 
weaker  ones  in  the  center,  and  big,  strong  horses  on  the  outside, 
the  biggest  and  strongest  of  all  being  the  leader.  Tell  how  obe- 
dient all  are  to  the  leader,  and  how  much  safer  and  happier  they 
are  because  of  that  obedience. 

As  regards  kind  and  unkind  treatment  of  horses,  something 
should  be  said,  but  our  efforts  should  mainly  be  directed  toward 
establishing  such  -  sympathetic  feeling  as  will  effectually  dictate 
kind  treatment. 

The  discomfort  of  check-reins  and  blinders,  the  unwarranta- 
ble mutilation  of  the  dock-tail  and  the  cruelty  of  whipping 
should  be  discountenanced,  of  course ;  but  better  than  much 
inveighing  against  these  things,  especially  with  little  children,  is 
the  relating  of  stories  suggestive  of  kind  deeds. 

For  instance,  tell  of  a  child  who  prevented  an  accident  by 
picking  up  a  big  piece  of  paper  which  was  blowing  about  the 
streets  and  frightening  the  horses ;  or  tell  of  the  little  girl  who 
lived  on  a  hilly  street  and  was  sorry  for  the  poor  horses  who 
slipped  so  in  going  up  and  down,  and  how  she  used  to  go  out  and 
sprinkle  ashes  on  the  slippery  places.) 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


151 


TEACHER^S  READING^ 

Winners  in  Life's  Race  (Chap.  X),  -        .        -        -         Arabella  Buckley 

The  Trouble  Grandpa  Nature  had  with  the  Horse,        Wide  Awake,  Oct.,  1 89 1 
In  the  Country  of  the  Horses  ("  Gulliver's  Travels  "),       -         -  Dean  Swift 

Description  of  Horse,        -------         -Job,xxxix:  19 

The  Chimera,  ----------  Hawthorne 

Pegasus  in  Pound,    ---------  Longfellow 

Pegasus  in  Harness,  --.--.--_      Schiller 

Muleykeh  (Dramatic  Idylls.     2nd  Series),        -         -         -         -       R.  Browning 

"How  they  brought  the  Good  News  from  Ghent  to  Aix,"  -        -       R.  Browning 
East  and  West,         ----.-..  Rudyard  Kipling 

John  Gilpin,  -___--_-_-      Cowper 

Paul  Revere,  Longfellow 

Sheridan's  Ride,      --------7'.  Buchanan  Read 

"Fot  the  Childf en^ 

Black  Beauty, Anna  Sewell 

Kicking, Mrs.  Gatty 

The  Bell  of  Atri, Longfellow 

At  the  Back  of  the  North  Wind, George  MacDonald 


STORIES. 


A  Wise  Old  Horse. 

I  will  tell  you  a  true  story  of  this  horse.*  He  was  the  horse  of 
a  Mr.  Lane  ;  and  Mr.  Lane,  on  going  home  one  day,  turned  the 
horse  into  a  field  to  graze. 

A  few  days  before  this,  the  horse  had  been  shod,  but  had  been 
**  pinched,"  as  the  blacksmiths  call  it,  in  the  shoeing  of  one  foot ; 
that  is,  the  shoe  was  so  tight  as  to  hurt  the  foot. 

The  next  morning,  after  Mr.  Lane  had  turned  the  horse  into 
the  field  to  graze,  he  missed  him.  "  What  can  have  become  of 
old  Sol?  "  asked  he.  The  name  of  the  horse  was  Solomon.  He 
was  so  named  because  he  was  wise. 


*  The  animal  belonged  to  the  late  Mr.  J.  Lane,  of  Frescombe,  Gloucester- 
shire, England,  and  the  anecdote  on  which  the  story  is  founded  is  told  by  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Jackson, 


152  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

When  Mr.  Lane  asked  where  old  Sol  was,  Tim,  the  stable-boy, 
said,  **I  think  some  thief  must  have  got  him;  for  I  cannot  find 
Sol  in  the  field  or  in  the  cow-yard." 

*'  What  makes  you  think  that  a  thief  has  got  him?  ''  said  Mr. 
Lane . 

*' Well,  sir,"  said  Tim,  "  the  gate  of  the  field  has  been  lifted 
off  the  hinges,  and  left  on  the  ground." 

**  That  is  no  proof  that  a  thief  took  the  horse,"  said  Mr.  Lane. 
"I  think  that  old  Sol  must  have  done  that  himself."  I  will  tell 
you  how  we  can  find  out.  We  will  look  at  the  gate  ;  and,  if  there 
is  a  mark  of  Sol's  teeth  on  it,  we  shall  know  he  has  let  himself 
out." 

So  they  went  to  the  gate,  and  there,  on  the  top  rail,  was  the 
mark  of  a  horse's  teeth. 

"  Now,  why  should  old  Sol  want  to  get  out  of  this  nice  field, 
so  full  of  grass  and  clover?"  thought  Mr.  Lane.  J 

**  Perhaps,"  said  Tim,  *'  the  blacksmith  can  tell  us  about  him."     ' 

*'  I  will  drive  over  to  the  blacksmith's  shop,  and  see,"  said  Mr. 
Lane. 

So  Mr.  Lane  drove  over  to  the  blacksmith's  shop,  which  was  a 
mile  and  a  half  off,  and  said  to  Mr.  Clay,  the  blacksmith,  "  Have 
you  seen  anything  of  old  Sol?  '  J 

*'  Why,  to  be  sure  !  "  said  Mr.  Clay.     *'  Old  Sol  came  here  to-     « 
day,  and  told  me  I  had  made  a  bad  job  of  it  in  putting  the  shoe 
on  his  right  fore-foot."  | 

''  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Clay?  "  said  Mr.  Lane.     "  A  horse    * 
cannot  talk." 

* '  Oh,  true  !  he  did  not  say  it  in  words ;  but  he  said  it  by  acts  as 
plainly  as  I  can  say  it.  He  came  to  the  forge  where  I  stood ;  and  , 
then  held  up  his  foot,  and  looked  at  me,  as  if  he  would  like  to 
say,  if  he  could,  '  Mr.  Clay,  you  are  getting  careless  in  your  old 
age.  Look  at  that  shoe.  See  how  it  pinches  my  foot.  Is  that 
the  way  to  shoe  a  decent  old  horse  like  me  ?  Now,  are  not  you 
ashamed  of  yourself?  Ease  that  shoe  at  once.  Take  it  off,  and 
put  it  on  in  a  better  way.'  " 

*'  Can  it  be  that  old  Sol  said  all  that  by  his  look?  "  asked  Mr. 
Lane,  laughing. 

"All  that,  and  more,"  said  Mr.  Clay.     "He  stood  still  as  a 


GOING  TO  THE  BLACKSMITH'S. 


153 


154  IN  THE  CHILD*S  WORLD. 

post  while  I  took  off  the  shoe.  And  then  I  put  it  on  so  it  might 
not  hurt  him.  And,  when  I  had  done  it,  he  gave  a  merry  neigh, 
as  if  to  say,  *  Thank  you,  Mr.  Clay,'  and  off  he  ran.  And  now, 
if  you  will  go  back  to  the  field,  you  will  find  him  there  eating 
his  breakfast." 

So  Mr.  Lane  laughed,  and  bade  Mr.  Clay  good-morning ;  and 
back  to  the  field  he  drove.  And  there  he  found  Tim  putting  up 
the  gate  ;  and  there  in  the  field  was  old  Sol  eating  grass,  and  as 
happy  as  could  be. 

Was  not  Sol  a  wise  old  horse  ? 

Emily  Carter. 

The  Nursery. 


Pegasus* 

In  the  land  of  Lycia,  with  its  fertile  grain  fields  and  gardens, 
there  once  came  a  terrible  great  creature  which  ruined  the  crops 
and  laid  everything  waste  before  it.  The  king  of  the  country 
was  in  great  trouble  and  knew  not  what  to  do.  It  happened 
that  a  young  man  seeking  adventures  had  just  come  to  the  court, 
and  the  king  bade  him  make  ready  to  fight  the  monster.  The 
young  man — whose  name  was  Bellerophon — was  eager  to  succeed, 
but  he  knew  that  this  was  a  dangerous  undertaking. 

One  night,  as  he  lay  pondering  how  he  should  accomplish  this 
great  deed  and  bring  safety  to  the  people,  he  fell  asleep  and 
dreamed  that  Minerva  (Athene)  the  Wise  Goddess,  came  to  him 
and  put  a  golden  bridle  in  his  hand.  When  he  arose  in  the 
morning,  his  foot  touched  something  on  the  floor.  He  looked 
down,  and  there  lay  the  golden  bridle  of  his  dream.  Minerva, 
he  thought,  must  have  given  it  to  him,  and  must  have  meant  to 
show  him  that  she  would  lend  him  aid ;  but  what  he  was  to  do 
with  a  bridle  he  did  not  know.  He  still  held  it  in  his  hand  as 
he  crossed  the  grass  to  the  spring.  The  water  was  bubbling 
from  its  source  just  as  usual,  but  what  was  the  wonderful  crea- 
ture drinking  there?  Bellerophon  stopped,  filled  with  aston- 
ishment and  delight,  and  stood  gazing  at  its  beauty.     It  was  a 


m  THE  child's  world.  155 

horse  of  snowy  whiteness,  with  great,  dazzling  white  wings ;  one 
dainty  hoof  was  in  the  water  and  his  long  mane  fell  forward  as  he 
stooped  to  drink.  The  moment  he  caught  sight  of  Belle rophon 
he  threw  up  his  head  with  a  startled  look  and  seemed  on  the  point 
of  dashing  away  or  of  rising  into  the  air  on  his  broad  wings. 

As  Bellerophon  took  a  step  forward — the  horse  eyeing  the 
golden  harness  in  his  hand — he  hardly  dared  think  he  could 
bridle  such  a  beautiful  wild  creature.  Yet  it  seemed  to  him  that 
this  must  be  what  Minerva  meant  him  to  do.  When  he  made 
the  attempt  the  horse  trembled  a  little,  but  did  not  resist,  and 
even  allowed  him  to  vault  upon  his  back.  As  Bellerophon  sat 
securely  in  his  place  and  the  horse  pranced  and  curverted  over  the 
grass,  the  two  were  certainly  a  fine  pair  to  look  upon.  Still 
more  so  when  the  horse  suddenly  spread  his  wings  and  the  two 
were  seen  sailing  through  the  air  as  easily  as  an  eagle  soars  over 
the  fields  and  hills. 

Now  Bellerophon  felt  that,  with  the  aid  of  this  wonderful 
horse,  he  might  hope  to  conquer  the  monster.  The  next  day  he 
set  out  with  Pegasus — that  was  the  horse's  name — and  they  did 
conquer  it,  so  that  all  the  land  was  free  again. 

When  they  came  back  to  the  spring  where  the  horse  had  first 
appeared,  Bellerophon  led  him  to  the  water  and  stood  watching 
as  Pegasus  drank  of  the  cool  stream.  Bellerophon  knew  that  he 
must  free  the  horse  now,  and  let  him  return  to  his  favorite  abiding 
place  high  upon  the  mountains.  There  among  the  snowy  peaks 
Pegasus  loved  to  dwell,  though  he  came  down  now  and  then  to 
some  flowery  meadow  to  crop  the  young  grass  or  to  drink  of  the 
clear  waters  of  the  springs.  Bellerophon  grieved  to  lose  him, 
and  Pegasus,  too,  seemed  sorry  that  they  must  part.  After 
Bellerophon  had  taken  off  his  bridle  the  horse  whinnied  and 
thrust  his  nose  into  Bellerophon' s  hand,  as  if  to  tell  him  he 
would  come  back  again.  Then  with  a  bound  and  a  rustling  of 
wings  the  wonderful  creature  was  gone. 

Pegasus  did  come  back  afterwards  to  help  in  other  brave  deeds, 
and  Bellerophon  and  the  swift-winged  horse  were  always  fast 
friends. 

F.  H. 


156  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


The  Horse  That  Fed  His  Friends 

L.  H.  sends  this  true  story  about  a  horse  : — 

There  were  two  horses,  one  of  them  blind,  belonging  to  a 
country  doctor  out  West,  who  for  eighteen  years  drove  them  on 
his  rounds  of  visiting,  generally  harnessing  them  together. 

One  evening,  the  doctor  took  out  his  blind  horse  alone,  and 
drove  him  until  late.  On  his  return  he  put  the  horse  into  a  stall 
next  to  that  of  his  mate,  there  being  a  tight  board  partition  be- 
tween them  from  floor  to  ceiling.  Then  he  threw  some  ears  of 
corn  into  the  manger  and  went  in-doors. 

By  and  by,  the  doctor  was  startled  by  curious  sounds  from  the 
stable,  and  he  took  a  lantern  and  went  to  see  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. As  he  drew  near,  he  heard  the  two  mates  calling  and  answer- 
ing each  other  in  cheerful  tones ;  and,  when  he  looked  into  the 
stable,  there  was  the  blind  horse  pushing  ears  of  corn  to  his  friend 
through  a  big  knot-hole  in  the  partition!  The  two  old  chums 
were  having  a  brotherly  chat,  and  enjoying  it  all  the  more  because 
they  were  going  halves  in  something  good  to  eat. 

St.  Nicholas. 

June,  1880, 


THE  COW, 

To  THE  Teacher  : — 

In  taking  the  cow  for  our  subject,  it  seems 
advisable  to  lay  most  stress  upon  its  products, 
since  they  are  more  familiar  to  city  children 
than  the  animal  itself.  But  this  has  been  so 
admirably,  indeed  so  perfectly,  done  already 
in  the  series  of  object  lessons  on  the  cow  in 
Miss  Wiltse's  book  "  Kindergarten  Stories  and 
Morning  Talks,"  that  a  different  line  is  taken 
here,  recurring  to  the  idea  presented  in  "  The 

Baker  " — that  is,  that  even  our  commonest  necessities  are  procured  for  us  by 

the  self-sacrifice  and  labor  of  many  people. 


THE  TALK. 

(A  little  guessing  play  is  usually  much  relished  by  children,  and 
is  also  rather  quickening  to  their  wits ;  so  it  may  -well  have  place 
occasionally  in  kindergarten. 

Give  a  few  easy  objects  first,  like  the  piano,  the  plants,  the  flag, 
etc.,  to  get  the  children  started  in  guessing  the  object  from  a 
brief  description ;  then  let  them  guess  the  cat  and  the  horse  in 
the  same  manner.) 

And  now,  says  the  teacher,  I  am  thinking  of  another  animal. 
It  has  a  backbone,  it  has  four  legs,  it  gives  milk  to  the  little  ones. 
It  is  like  the  cat  and  the  horse  both,  in  all  those  things,  isn't  it? 

It  is  a  large  animal,  it  has  hoofs,  and  it  eats  grass.  Is  that  like 
the  cat?  No.  Like  the  horse?  Yes.  But  it  has  two  horns. 
Is  that  like  the  horse  ? 

It  lives  in  the  barn  and  the  farmer  takes  good  care  of  it,  for  it 
is  a  good,  kind  creature  and  very  useful. 


158  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

(Do  not  prolong  the  guessing  beyond  the  point  of  lively  inter- 
est, nor  allow  random  guesses.  If  the  children  do  not  know  by 
this  time  that  it  is  the  cow  you  are  describing,  tell  what  the  animal 
says  or  show  a  picture.  The  talk  should  not  be  given  without  a 
good  picture  or  pictures,  since  the  cow  is  certainly  not  familiar 
to  all  the  children. 

As  the  picture  is  shown,  let  the  children  give  what  descriptive 
items  they  can  from  it.  The  teacher  will  probably  need  to  ex- 
plain and  supplement,  noting  the  difference  between  the  cow's 
hoof  and  the  horse's  hoof,  etc.) 

When  the  cow  bites  off  the  grass  or  hay,  she  does  not  really 
eat  it  at  first,  but  packs  it  away  in  a  paunch  or  bag  which  she 
has  inside  her  big  body.  (This  paunch  holds  from  fifteen  to 
eighteen  gallons.) 

When  this  big  bag  is  full,  the  cow  lies  down ;  and  the  grass  or 
hay,  or  whatever  she  has  eaten,  comes  up  into  her  mouth,  one 
little  ball  of  it  at  a  time,  and  then  she  chews  it  and  really  eats  it. 
Sheep,  camels  and  deer  also  chew  the  cud. 

Who  knows  what  the  cow  can  give  us  for  our  breakfast?  Yes, 
indeed  !  All  the  nice  milk  we  drink  comes  from  the  cow.  Per- 
haps some  of  you  only  thought  of  the  milkman  bringing  the  milk, 
but  he  has  got  to  get  it  from  the  farmer ;  and  who  do  you  suppose 
gave  it  to  the  farmer  but  the  good  old  cow ! 

Many  people  have  been  working  already  this  morning  so  that 
we  could  have  milk  for  our  breakfasts,  to  drink  or  to  put  in  tea 
or  coffee. 

Somebody  had  to  get  up  early  to  milk  the  cows  and  get  the 
cans  of  milk  ready  for  the  milkman ;  and  the  milkman  had  to  start 
out  early,  too,  no  matter  how  cold  or  stormy  it  was  ;  and  the  horse 
had  to  leave  his  nice,  cosy  stable  and  draw  the  wagon  loaded  with 
the  heavy  cans  of  milk  all  the  way  to  the  train  or  to  town  for  us ; 
and  then  the  mother  had  to  get  the  breakfast  ready. 

Which  of  you  children  had  milk  to  drink  this  morning? 
Let  us  count  how  many  there  are  to  whom  we  must  say  **  Thank 
you  "  for  it. 


MILKING. 


159 


160  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 


Winners  in  Life's  Race  (Chap.  X),  -        -        -        -        Arabella  Buckley 

Our  Rural  Divinities  ("Birds  and  Poets"),       -        -        -  John  Burroughs 

Rudder  Grange,        -        -        -        --        -        -        -      Frank  R.  Stockton 

!a"rsTndte^tra;  ^o^  }    ("  ^^^  °"S-'^  T«'>'").  ''-'^<'- 

The  Drovers^        "I whtitkr 

Among  the  Hills,  J 

High  Tide  on  the  Coast  of  Lincolnshire,  -----      Jean  Ingelow 

Milking,  _..-------     Celia  Thaxter 

The  Milkmaid,  _--_---  Henry  Austin  Dobson 

The  Cowboy's  Song, A.M.  Wells 

Farmyard  Song,       -         -------J.  T.  Trowbridge 

For  the  Childfen* 

Thank  you,  pretty  Cow, -       Jane  Taylor 

Stories  about  the  Cow  ("Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning 

Talks "), '      S.E.  Wiltse 


STORffiS. 
The  Story  the  Milk  Told  Me- 

Did  you  have  a  drink  of  good,  sweet  milk  this  morning?  Yes  ! 
Well,  so  did  I,  and  let  me  tell  you  the  story  it  told  me  as  it  stood, 
white  and  creamy,  in  the  tall  glass. 

You  see,  just  as  I  was  lifting  it  to  my  lips,  it  looked  so  foam- 
ing and  fresh,  that  I  said,  '*Good  milk,  do  tell  me  where  you 
came  from  before  the  milkman  brought  you  to  me?  '' 

The  milk  bubbled  up  a  little,  then  settled  down  quietly  and 
said,  **  Yes,  I  will  tell  you  about  it.  Before  the  milkman  brought 
me  to  you  I  stood  in  a  bottle  with  ever  so  many  other  bottles,  in 
a  dark,  cool  ice  box  in  the  milkman's  shop,  where  we  shivered 
and  grew  very  cold."  "  Then  that  is  what  makes  you  so  cold 
now,  is  it?  "  said  I.  "  Yes,"  bubbled  the  milk.  **  Well,  before 
I  lived  in  the  milkman's  shop,  I  was  swimming  around  with  ever 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  161 

SO  much  other  milk  in  a  very  large  milk-can,  out  in  the  country, 
waiting  to  be  bottled  and  carried  to  the  city  " — *'  Oh  ! "  I  interrupt- 
ed, "  I  didn't  know  you  came  from  the  country.  Do  you  grow 
on  trees  or  in  the  ground?  "  The  milk  laughed  so  hard  and  shook 
so,  that  it  almost  spilled  itself  over  on  the  tablecloth,  and  I  was 
afraid  it  would  break  the  glass.  As  soon  as  it  could  speak  again, 
it  said:  ''Dear  me!  Didn't  you  know  that  before  I  was  put 
into  the  milk-can,  I  came  right  from  the  old  **  bossy  cow,"  who 
stands  in  the  meadow  by  the  river,  chewing  her  cud?  But  before 
that,  and  before  I  was  white,  creamy  milk  as  you  see  me  now,  I 
grew  tall  and  green  on  the  river  bank.  No  wonder  you  look 
astonished.  Yes,  I  was  grass  for  the  good  old  cow  to  eat."  *'  And 
before  you  were  milk  you  were  grass  !  How  funny  !  And  before 
that?  "  **  That  is  too  long  a  story,"  rippled  the  milk ;  **  and  too 
difficult  for  me  to  tell  and  for  you  to  understand." 

*'But  where  do  you  go  after  I  drink  you?"  I  asked.  '*0h! 
after  you  drink  me,"  answered  the  milk,  **I  change  into  rich, 
red  blood,  to  make  your  body  grow  strong  and  healthy." 

**Dear,  good  milk,"  said  I,  as  I  once  more  lifted  the  glass  to 
my  lips,  "  then  I  won't  say  good-bye  to  you,  before  I  drink  you 
but  I  will  thank  our  Heavenly  Father  for  making  you,  and 
thank  the  good  old  cow  for  giving  you,  and  the  kind  milkman  for 
bringing  you  to  me." 

Then  I  drank  the  cool,  sweet  milk,  but  I  remembered  its  story 
to  tell  to  you. 

Gertrude  H.  No  yes. 


The  Cow  That  Lost  Her  Tail. 

There  was  once  a  Cow  who  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  her  tail. 
History  does  not  tell  us  the  exact  manner  in  which  this  unhappy 
event  took  place.  Perhaps  some  enemy  struck  the  foul  blow 
which  deprived  the  poor  animal  of  this  useful  ornament.  Perhaps 
some  tail  disease  made  amputation  necessary.  Perhaps  the  mow- 
ers struck  the  tail  off  accidentally  with  their  scythes.  Perhaps 
— but  there  are  so  many  *'  perhapses  "  in  the  world  that  I  will  not 
try  to  guess  any  more,  but  will  tell  you  what  I  really  do  know 


162  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

about  the  matter,  which  was  told  me  by  the  fillet  of  veal  we  had 
for  dinner  the  other  day,  which  belonged  to  a  Calf  who  was  own 
son  to  the  very  Cow  to  whom  the  affair  happened.  "Wise  old 
George  Herbert,  who,  in  his  day,  wrote  pretty  poetry  and  invented 
curious  proverbs,  had  one  saying,  the  truth  of  which  our  Cow 
certainly  proved.  Said  he,  in  his  wisdom;  **The  Cow  never 
knoweth  the  value  of  he^^  tail  till  she  loseth  it ;  '*  and  this  was  the 
case  with  our  poor  friend.  In  former  days  she  had  thought  but 
little  of  her  tail,  and,  indeed,  had  sometimes  spoken  of  it  as  rather 
an  inconvenience,  getting  between  her  legs  in  an  awkward  man- 
ner, and  being  of  little  use  at  best.  But  the  blessings  we  think 
least  of  in  our  hours  of  idle  prosperity  are  really  often  those  the 
loss  of  which  would  be  the  most  serious  misfortune  which  could 
happen  to  us.  And  thus,  when  the  Cow  found  that  her  tail  was 
actually  gone,  she  began  to  miss  it  greatly,  and  to  regret  its  loss 
uncommonly, 

In  the  hot  summer  days,  when  the  cattle  collected  around  the 
trees  to  stand  under  the  welcome  shade,  the  flies  came  buzzing 
about  as  usual,  annoying  the  poor  creatures  as  much  as  they  could. 
Swish,  swish,  went  the  tails  of  the  other  cows,  brushing  off  the 
tiresome  insects,  and  fanning  their  own  poor  sides  at  the  same 
time.  But  our  Cow  was  a  helpless  victim  to  the  tormentors,  who 
settled  upon  her  by  hundreds  at  a  time,  and  drove  her  nearly 
wild.  Then  when  the  animals  were  tired  of  standing  still,  and 
scampered  across  the  field  down  to  the  pond  at  a  fast  gallop,  with 
their  tails  stretched  out  at  full  length,  our  poor  Cow  galloped  too, 
but  she  cut  the  most  ridiculous  figure  without  a  tail,  and  felt 
very  small  among  the  well-tailed  cows  around  her.  In  the  pond, 
too,  it  was  no  better ;  the  flies  were  more  troublesome  than  ever 
there,  and  she  was  obliged  to  walk  in  much  deeper  than  she  liked, 
because  she  could  not  brush  them  away  for  want  of  a  tail. 

What  made  it  most  trying  of  all  was  the  scorn  and  ridicule  of 
the  other  cows,  who  would  never  leave  off  laughing  at  her  mis- 
fortune. Nay,  the  very  calves  would  not  let  her  alone,  and  old 
Jessie,  the  Donkey,  was  almost  the  only  one  who  had  a  kind  word 
for  her ;  for  she  herself  had  been  so  jeered  at  and  insulted  through 
life  that  she  had  learned  to  have  some  feeling  for  other  people 
when  they  were  in  the  like  case. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  163 

At  first  the  Cow  tried  to  endure  their  laughter  quietly,  and  put 
the  matter  off  with  a  joke,  saying  that,  *'at  least  no  one  could 
now  accuse  her  of  being  a  tale-bearer."  But  this  was  foolish, 
you  know,  particularly  as  the  words  are  not  spelt  the  same,  which 
the  other  cows  knew  perfectly  well,  and  only  **  chaffed'*  her  all 
the  more,  until  her  life  really  became  a  burden  to  her. 

Under  these  painful  circumstances,  she  at  last  determined  to 
seek  the  assistance  of  a  venerable  Farrier  who  lived  near,  and  who 
had  great  experience  in  all  the  diseases  and  afflictions  with  which 
mortal  cows  are  surrounded.  He  was  as  kind-hearted  as  he  was 
skillful,  and,  on  the  promise  of  a  pint  of  milk  daily  for  a  week, 
expressed  his  readiness  to  provide  the  Cow  with  a  new  tail.  The 
promise  was  willingly  given,  and  the  bargain  struck.  Before  the 
week  was  out,  a  tail,  carefully  made  of  thick-plaited  straw,  was 
cleverly  fastened  to  the  Cow's  back,  painted  the  color  of  a  proper 
tail,  and  warranted  by  the  Farrier  to  act  in  every  way  like  the 
lost  ornament. 

Proud  and  happy  at  her  cure,  the  Cow  returned  to  her  com- 
panions, and  swished  her  tail  about  as  merrily  as  any  of  them  for 
a  couple  of  days.  The  other  animals,  whatever  they  might  have 
thought,  said  but  little,  and  were  in  truth  glad  enough  that  a 
cure  had  been  found  which  might  be  required  by  any  one  of  them 
at  a  future  time. 

Not  long,  however,  did  this  state  of  things  last.  A  shower  of 
rain  washed  off  some  of  the  paint,  and,  as  she  was  lashing  her 
sides  near  to  a  thick  hedge,  her  tail  caught  in  a  bramble,  which 
tore  out  several  straws  when  she  moved  on.  After  this,  every 
thing  she  caught  in,  or  touched,  damaged  the  tail  more  and  more 
— the  straw  became  unplaited,  some  fell  out  each  time  she  lashed 
her  sides,  and  in  a  very  short  time  she  was  as  tail-less  and  miser- 
able as  ever. 

Again  she  sought  the  Farrier,  and  laid  her  case  before  him, 
complaining  with  a  melancholy  **  moo,"  that  his  cure  had  proved 
ineffectual.  The  worthy  man  expressed  his  deep  regret,  but,  in 
consideration  of  her  grief,  agreed  to  furnish  another  tail  at  the 
same  price  as  before.  This  time  it  was  one  which  no  bramble 
could  tear,  for  it  was  made  of  clay,  thoroughly  beaten  up  and 
hardened,  and  then  twisted  into  the  form  of  a  tail.     It  was  care- 


164  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

fully  fastened  on  by  the  Farrier,  painted  again  as  the  straw  tail 
had  been,  and  appeared  likely  to  answer  in  every  respect. 

The  Cow  returned  again  to  her  friends  with  joy,  and,  although 
she  found  her  new  instrument  rather  awkward  at  first,  was  in 
great  hopes  that  it  would  be  of  much  service  to  her.  For  several 
days  all  went  well,  and  she  recovered  her  health  and  spirits,  which 
had  begun  to  suffer.  But  one  afternoon,  while  the  cattle  were 
out  in  the  meadows,  a  storm  came  on,  which  raged  for  several 
hours.  The  rain  came  down  in  torrents,  and  there  was  no  shelter 
to  be  had.  Alas  for  our  Cow  !  The  paint  of  her  tail  gradually  drop- 
ped off  in  large  drops,  and  little  by  little  the  hard  clay  softened 
with  the  wet.  When  she  lashed  her  sides,  a  long  clay  mark  was 
left  behind,  just  as  if  some  one  had  struck  her  with  a  muddy 
whip,  and  she  felt  her  tail  slipping  from  her,  and  becoming  lighter 
and  smaller  at  every  lash.  By  the  next  morning  she  presented  a 
lamentable  appearance,  and  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  make  any 
use  of  the  stunted  and  injured  bit  of  tail  which  was  left. 

She  betook  herself  at  once  to  her  friend  the  Farrier,  who  did 
his  best  to  comfort  her,  and,  after  some  thought  over  the  matter, 
agreed  to  supply  her  with  a  third  tail,  for  the  gift  of  a  pint  of 
milk  every  day  for  a  fortnight.  This  was  to  be  a  more  expensive 
tail,  and  required  more  care  in  making,  and  greater  strength  in 
the  fastenings.  So  you  will  think,  when  I  tell  you  that  it  was 
made  of  iron,  and  in  fact  was  very  like  a  pump-handle.  It  was 
duly  painted  and  put  on,  and  once  more  our  Cow  appeared  among 
her  friends  with  a  respectable  appendage. 

But  a  new  and  cruel  dif&culty  now  appeared.  The  weight  of 
the  new  tail  was  so  great  as  to  cause  the  Cow  serious  inconven- 
ience. She  did  not  feel  it  at  first,  but,  as  days  wore  on,  it  seemed 
to  drag  her  backward  by  its  weight,  and  made  it  necessary  for  her 
to  rest  frequently  and  for  some  time.  Then,  when  she  lashed  her 
sides,  it  struck  her  such  a  blow  as  nearly  to  break  her  ribs,  and 
in  a  short  time  she  found  she  really  had  no  strength  left  to  lash 
her  sides  at  all.  Day  by  day  she  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  until 
at  last  it  was  evident  that  her  constitution  would  break  down 
under  the  suffering  which  she  had  imposed  upon  herself  by  the 
purchase  of  this  iron  tail.  She  therefore  went  to  the  Farrier, 
who  was  much  shocked  at  her  appearance,  but  at  once  carefully 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  165 

removed  the  tail  and  gave  her  some  strengthening  medicine.  He 
then  told  her  that  it  was  plain  that  a  light  tail  was  the  only  thing 
for  her  case,  and  that,  although  straw  had  failed,  he  thought  a 
hay  tail  might  answer  the  purpose.  He  therefore  twisted  a  tail 
of  hay  with  great  care,  secured  it  as  firmly  as  he  could,  and  sent 
her  off  without  asking  for  payment. 

The  change  was  indeed  delightful ;  she  swished  the  flies  away 
as  easily  as  possible — ran  with  her  tail  stretched  out  as  well  as 
the  best  of  them,  and  speedily  recovered  her  health  and  spirits. 
But  at  the  end  of  a  week  her  dream  of  happiness  suddenly  ended 
in  an  unexpected  manner.  She  was  standing  lazily  under  a  tree, 
close  to  the  wire  fence  by  the  road,  dreaming  of  the  past  and 
speculating  on  the  future  in  a  sleepy  manner,  when,  a  fly  having 
settled  on  her  back,  she  attempted  as  usual  to  brush  it  off  with 
her  tail.  Some  slight  resistance  appeared  to  be  offered,  as  if  some 
one  was  holding  her  by  the  tail,  and  when  it  yielded,  to  her  hor- 
ror the  tail  fell  far  short  of  the  fly,  and  in  fact  only  just  touched 
her  side  at  all.  Turning  round  in  the  most  indignant  surprise, 
she  beheld  a  half-starved  Tinkers' s  Horse,  who  had  been  browsing 
by  the  roadside,  and,  seeing  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  tempting 
wisp  of  hay  hanging  to  a  cow  within  his  reach,  had  quietly  put 
his  head  over  the  wire  fence  and  eaten  off  more  than  half  her 
tail  before  she  found  it  out.  She  moo'd  loudly  with  rage,  but 
could  do  nothing,  and  had,  moreover,  the  mortification  of  seeing 
the  wayfaring  beast  enjoying  his  last  mouthful  with  the  keenest 
relish. 

Driven  to  despair  by  this  new  misfortune,  the  poor  Cow  now 
applied  once  more  to  her  friend  the  Farrier,  assuring  him  that 
she  would  do  anything  in  the  world  to  obtain  real  and  lasting 
relief  from  her  affliction,  for  she  felt  that  if  she  could  not  be  re- 
tailed, she  should  meet  her  end  before  long  in  tail-less  despair. 

The  man  replied  that  he  certainly  thought  hers  a  peculiarly 
hard  case,  and  that  luck  seemed  against  her  altogether.  He 
thought,  however,  that  if  she  could  go  to  the  expense  of  a  pint  of 
milk  daily  for  a  month,  he  could  afford  her  a  remedy  with  which 
she  would  not  be  disappointed. 

The  poor  Cow  eagerly  consented  to  his  demand,  and  he  then 
produced  an  india-rubber  tail,  of  great  strength  and  beauty.     It 


■1-66  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

was  at  once  light  enough  to  enable  lier  to  brush  off  the  flies. with- 
out the  least  difficulty,  pliant  enough  to  be  easily  moved  to  and 
fro  at  pleasure,  and  strong  enough  to  resist  the  assaults  of  bram- 
bles, while  it  afforded  no  temptation  to  the  hay-loving  horse,  and 
was  superior  to  the  effects  of  the  most  drenching  rain  that  ever 
descended  upon  the  earth. 

When  fairly  in  possession  of  this  splendid  tail,  the  delight  of 
our  old  friend  knew  no  bounds.  There  was  no  tail  like  it  in  the 
field.  She  could  now  run,  fling  out  her  tail,  and  swish  her  sides 
to  her  heart's  content.  She  could  brush  away  flies  with  the  best 
of  them,  and  apparently  there  lay  before  her  a  long  life  of  unin- 
terrupted happiness.  Alas !  how  sad  it  is  that  the  bright  and 
beautiful  fades  so  soon  from  off  this  earth  !  The  happiest  moments 
of  our  lives  are  always  the  shortest ;  and  the  sun  of  our  prosperity 
only  seems  to  shine  for  a  moment,  that  we  may  feel  the  contrast 
more  bitterly  when  the  clouds  of  sorrow  darken  and  shut  it  from 
our  sight.  Man's  joy  is  brief;  and  cows  are  no  better  off  than 
men.  One  short  month  our  Cow  wagged  her  tail  in  blissful 
security,  and  then  came  a  return  of  trouble. 

On  one  memorable  evening,  after  a  day  passed  in  the  usual 
routine  of  a  cow's  life,  she  was  duly  milked  and  driven  into  her 
happy  lodge,  where  she  lay  down  peace  fully  to  sleep.  She  dreamed 
of  grassy  meadows  along  the  river' s  side,  where  the  cowslips  seemed 
to  flourish  and  to  kiss  the  streamlet's  tide ;  and  she  fancied  she 
was  wandering  about  the  flowery  mead,  and  stopping  here  and 
there  upon  the  clover-grass  to  feed.  She  thought  of  happy  days 
gone  by,  and  joys  she  used  to  feel ;  of  calves  that  she  had  loved 
and  lost — all  long  since  turned  to  veal.  And  she  wished  that 
cows  did  not  to  men  less  valuable  seem,  for  calves  that  they  pre- 
sent to  them,  than  for  their  milk  and  cream.  She  slept,  I  say, 
so  peacefully  and  dreamt  of  former  joys,  and  all  around  were 
hushed  to  rest^she  never  heard  a  noise ;  but  on  she  slept,  and 
seemed  to  feel  her  milk  would  never  fail,  as  long  as  she  her  treas- 
ure kept — that  india-rubber  tail ! 

That  was  the  kind  of  dream  our  Cow  had,  full  of  pleasant  things 
and  no  thought  of  coming  evil.  But  towards  morning  she  woke 
with  a  start,  and  looked  sharply  round,  as  she  heard  a  pattering 
of  little  feet  hurrying  away  over  the  straw  on  which  she  lay. 


IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  167 

Milkpails  and  dairymaids  !  What  on  earth  was  this  ?  More  sor- 
row, more  trouble,  more  misfortune.  The  thievish,  wicked  and 
ravenous  rats  had  been  at  her  tail.  They  had  been  sharp  enough 
to  discover  that  it  was  not  real  flesh,  and,  this  being  the  case, 
that  they  could  freely  nibble  it  without  being  detected  by  its  sleep- 
ing owner.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  rascals  had  made 
the  best  of  their  opportunity.  It  was  so  gnawed,  nibbled,  torn, 
and  eaten,  that  a  mere  apology  for  a  tail  was  all  that  remained. 
No  more  peace — no  more  comfort — no  more  repose  and  happiness 
for  the  wretched  Cow.  She  bellowed  with  anguish,  rendered 
worse  by  the  appearance  of  a  venerable  Rat,  who  sat  upon  the 
manger  hard  by,  licking  his  lips,  with  greedy  remembrance  of  his 
last  bite. 

**  Oh,  you  vile  robber  !  '*  exclaimed  the  poor  Cow ;  **  what  have 
I  ever  done  to  you  that  you  should  treat  me  thus?  Cowardly 
thieves  that  you  all  are,  I  wish  the  rat-catchers  had  the  whole  lot 
of  ye  !  " 

*' Madam,"  returned  the  Rat,  gravely,  '*  your  observations  are 
scarcely  polite  ;  but  I  can  make  every  allowance  for  your  wounded 
feelings.  But  let  this  event  teach  you  to  avoid  shams.  If  people 
will  wear  things  which  are  not  their  own,  sooner  or  later  they  are 
sure  to  be  found  out ;  and  whether  it  be  the  case  of  a  young  lady's 
back  hair  or  a  cow's  tail,  of  course  it  is  not  pleasant  for  deceivers 
that  their  deceit  should  be  exposed ;  this  exposure,  however,  is 
part  of  an  honest  Rat's  duty,  and  I  confess  I  am  rejoiced  to  have 
been  able  to  assist  in  detecting  an  impostor." 

So  saying,  the  Rat  retired  to  his  own  place,  leaving  the  un- 
tailed  Cow  to  moo  out  her  grief  alone.  What  could  she  do  now? 
Where  could  she  go?  Her  confidence  in  the  Farrier  was  really 
shaken,  for  had  he  not  re-tailed  her  five  times,  and  each  time 
failed  to  produce  an  article  that  would  really  last?  Straw,  clay, 
iron,  hay,  and  now  india  rubber,  all  had  come  to  nought !  Was 
it  of  any  use  to  try  once  more,  or  should  she  leave  off  in  despair, 
and  make  the  best  of  a  bad  job?  In  her  doubt  and  dif&culty  she 
bethought  herself  of  kind  Jessie,  the  Donkey,  and  sought  her 
advice. 

**  Mother  Cow,"  said  Jessie,  somewhat  flattered  at  the  confi- 
dence in  her  judgment  which  was  shown  by  her  neighbor  in  con- 


168  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

suiting  her,  **  I  am  a  meek  and  humble  animal,  and  fear  to  give 
advice  -which  may  not  be  agreeable.  At  the  same  time,  if  you 
value  my  poor  opinion,  which  is  based  upon  my  own  experience 
of  the  world,  it  is  very  much  at  your  service.  I,  too,  have  not 
been  without  my  trials  in  life.  I  have  constantly  been  called  an 
ass  to  my  face,  and  that,  too,  possibly  not  without  reason.  I  have 
been  told  that  I  am  stupid,  when  I  feel  that  I  am  only  somewhat 
less  quick  than  might  be  in  understanding  matters  of  a  subtle 
nature.  I  have  been  called  idle  and  lazy  when  I  am  really  only 
constitutionally  slow ;  and  I  have  not  unfrequently  been  termed 
an  obstinate  brute  when  I  was  really  only  showing  that  patient 
resolution  which  true  wisdom  dictated.  Along  with  all  this  abuse, 
I  have  had  quite  my  full  share  of  kicks  and  blows,  and  may  fairly 
say  that  my  life  has  had  more  of  the  rough  than  of  the  smooth  in 
it.  I  have  always  found  it  best  to  endure  patiently  and  quietly 
the  trials  which  come  upon  me,  and  time  has  wrought  its  own 
cure.  My  skin  is  now  so  tough  that  I  feel  but  little  of  the  blows 
given  me,  and  the  abuse  falls  upon  my  accustomed  ears  without 
producing  the  smallest  effect  upon  my  tranquil  spirit.  Why 
should  not  the  same  line  of  conduct  prove  of  advantage  in  your 
case?  I  think  you  have  perhaps  taken  some  unnecessary  trouble, 
and  flurried  yourself  a  good  deal  too  much.  Learn  to  put  up  with 
that  which  cannot  be  avoided,  and  you  will  be  a  happier  Cow,  as 
I  am  sure  that  my  misfortunes  and  hardships  have  made  me  a 
more  contented  Donkey." 

The  Cow  listened  with  attention  to  Jessie's  remarks,  and  then 
told  her  of  the  words  which  had  fallen  from  the  Rat,  and  asked 
her  whether  she  thought  there  was  anything  in  them;  because, 
if  shams  were  really  as  wrong  as  he  had  represented,  she  had 
certainly  not  done  well  in  applying  to  the  Farrier  for  false  tails, 
and  accepting  them  at  his  hands. 

'  *  Upon  that  point, ' '  replied  the  Donkey .  *  *  I  am  hardly  capable 
of  giving  an  opinion.  Undoubtedly  it  is  better  to  be  always  honest 
and  straightforward,  and  not  to  pretend  to  have  that  which  you 
do  not  really  possess.  But  you  cannot  say  that  a  man  is  wrong 
to  wear  a  cork  leg  if  he  has  lost  his  own  limb  ;  and  although  ladies' 
hair  is  a  matter  quite  out  of  my  line  of  business,  I  don't  see  any 
great  harm  in  their  using  any  device  to  make  themselves  look  as 


^fW 


IN  THE  child's  world.  169 

nice  as  possible.  The  case  of  a  Co"w  and  her  tail  is  very  different. 
A  useful  article  is  lost,  and  you  try  to  replace  it  by  one  as  nearly 
like  it  as  you  can  get.  There  is  no  sham  in  the  matter  of  which 
any  decent  Cow  need  be  ashamed,  and  the  Rat's  remarks  'only 
sprang  from  his  own  evil  nature  and  nasty  disposition.*' 

Somewhat  reassured  by  the  words  of  her  friend,  the  Cow 
thanked  her  with  a  grateful  bellow,  and,  after  pondering  for  some 
time  over  what  she  had  said,  determined  to  go  to  the  Farrier 
once  more  ;  not  to  ask  for  any  more  tails,  but  to  have  the  stump 
of  her  old  tail  so  treated  that  she  might  suffer  as  little  future 
inconvenience  as  possible. 

She  found  the  good  man  as.  kind  as  usual,  and  he  expressed 
both  surprise  and  sorrow  at  the  result  of  his  last  experiment. 
He  was  quite  ready  to  suggest  that  other  tails  should  be  tried, 
and  produced  an  article  manufactured  of  rope,  which  he  said 
would  be  by  no  means  a  disagreeable  substitute  for  the  lost  append- 
age. But  the  Cow  steadily  refused.  The  words  of  the  Donkey 
had  made  a  great  impression  upon  her,  and  she  was  resolved  to 
endure  with  patience  the  affliction  with  which  she  had  been  visited. 

Now,  in  this  particular,  my  children,  you  will  do  well  to  follow 
the  example  of  our  friend  the  Cow.  It  is  true  that  Providence 
has  not  adorned  you  with  tails,  and  you  are  therefore  secure  from 
the  particular  misfortune  which  befell  this  worthy  animal.  But 
aches  and  pains  are  things  to  which  children — and  grown-up 
people,  too — are  unhappily  subject ;  and  when  you  have  these,  or 
any  more  serious  illness,  to  bear,  the  great  thing  is  to  determine 
to  be  patient  and  gentle,  and  endure  the  pain  bravely  and  quietly  ; 
by  which  means,  not  only  does  it  really  become  more  easy  to  bear, 
but  your  conduct  makes  those  with  whom  you  live  love  you  bet- 
ter, and  become  more  anxious  to  do  all  they  can  to  help  and  com- 
fort you.  So  it  was  with  our  Cow.  When  she  returned  to  the 
field  with  her  stump  of  a  tail  properly  dressed,  and  made  no  further 
pretence  of  concealing  her  misfortune,  the  scorn  and  laughter  of 
the  other  animals  soon  gave  way  to  pity.  This  pity  grew  into 
admiration  as  they  beheld  the  meek  spirit  with  which  the  Cow 
submitted  to  her  affliction,  the  patience  which  she  displayed  imder 
the  attacks  of  the  flies,  and  the  ready  kindness  with  which  she 
assisted  any  other  animal  to  whom  her  services  could  be  of  value. 


170  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

In  fact,  she  became  celebrated  among  all  the  animals  as  one  to 
whom  anyone  might  apply  for  advice,  with  the  certainty  that  it 
would  be  cheerfully  and  wisely  given.  This  calm  disposition  of 
mJnd  and  contented  spirit  were  not  without  their  effect  upon  her 
bodily  condition.  Her  milk  became  so  plentiful  and  so  rich  that 
she  was  soon  confessed  to  be  the  most  valuable  Cow  upon  the 
whole  farm,  and  the  dairymaid  could  never  say  enough  in  her 
favor,  while  her  owner  declared  that  he  would  piever  part  with 
her  while  she  lived. 

But  her  chief  reward  was  yet  to  come.  Standing  one  day  by 
the  wire  fence,  near  the  very  spot  where  her  hay-tail  had  been  so 
unceremoniously  taken  from  her,  she  heard  a  noise  of  approach- 
ing hoofs  upon  the  road,  and  up  trotted  the  same  half-starved 
Horse  who  had  inflicted  the  injury  upon  her.  Accosting  her 
with  his  politest  neigh,  he  told  her  that  he  had  heard  of  her  good 
deeds  and  kindly  disposition  from  many  animals,  and  had  often 
regretted  the  ill  deed  towards  her  of  which  he  had  been  guilty. 

**I  do  not  know,  madam,"  he  continued,  *'how  far  I  may  be 
able  to  make  any  atonement  for  my  crime,  but  in  the  course  of 
my  rambles,  I  have  met  a  venerable  Giraffe,  attached  to  a  travel- 
ing circus,  who  having  long  studied  the  subject  of  tails,  told  me 
that  he  was  possessed  of  an  ointment  which  had  performed  some 
most  remarkable  cures  in  cases  which  had  been  previously  deemed 
hopeless.  After  much  earnest  solicitation,  I  obtained  from  him 
a  pot  of  this  priceless  medicine,  which  I  respectfully  offer  for 
your  acceptance." 

The  Cow  was  much  touched  by  this  act  of  kindness  and  gener- 
osity on  the  part  of  the  Tinker's  Horse,  and,  though  she  had  but 
little  faith  in  the  ointment,  and  felt  it  but  too  probable  that  the 
Giraffe  might  turn  out  to  be  one  of  those  quack  doctors  who  only 
deceive  people  and  injure  their  constitutions  by  the  pretended 
remedies  which  they  sell,  yet  she  could  do  no  less  than  accept  the 
gift  so  freely  offered,  and  promised  the  good  Horse  that  she  would 
certainly  try  it. 

The  some  evening,  therefore,  she  got  Jessie,  the  Donkey,  to  rub 
a  little  of  the  ointment  upon  her  stump,  and  repeated  the  opera- 
tion three  times  a  week,  according  to  the  directions  on  the  oint- 
ment pot. 


IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  l71 

Extraordinary  to  relate,  at  the  end  of  the  first  week  a  change 
really  appeared  in  the  stump.  Hair  came  upon  it,  and  Jessie  said 
she  could  almost  fancy  that  it  was  a  trifle  longer.  A  fortnight 
passed,  and  doubt  changed  to  certainty.  Yes  !  the  Cow's  tail  was 
undoubtedly  growing ! 

In  her  delight,  the  honest  creature  was  for  hurrying  off  to  show 
the  Farrier,  but  gave  up  the  idea  at  the  advice  of  the  Donkey, 
who  reminded  her  that,  as  a  regular  doctor,  he  was  quite  certain 
to  be  jealous  of  the  Giraffe  as  a  mere  quack,  .and  that  mischief 
might  possibly  follow.  Besides,  she  was  going  on  well,  and  had 
better  let  well  alone. 

Accordingly,  our  Cow  staid  quietly  at  home,  and  continued  to 
use  the  ointment  until  the  pot  was  empty.  It  had,  however, 
lasted  her  for  two  months,  at  the  end  of  which  time  her  tail  had 
grown  to  more  than  half  its  original  length ;  and,  having  got  a 
start,  I  am  glad  to  say  that  it  persevered  in  growing,  until,  in 
another  couple  of  months'  time,  she  had  as  good  and  serviceable 
a  tail  as  any  of  her  neighbors  ! 

Her  past  sorrows  were  now  all  forgotten.  Kind  words  and 
congratulations  were  poured  in  upon  her  from  every  quarter. 
Her  master  wondered  at  the  change  for  the  better  in  her  appear- 
ance, and  the  dairymaid  was  delighted  at  the  good  fortune  which 
had  befallen  her  favorite  Cow.  She  herself  was  most  thankful 
for  the  blessing  which  she  now  enjoyed,  and  always  felt  that  it 
was  owing  to  the  patience  with  which  she  had  borne  her  troubles, 
and  the  kindness  which  she  had  shown  to  all  around  her — which 
is  a  thing  that,  as  in  this  very  case,  alway  brings  its  own  reward. 

So  she  lived  on,  a  happy,  prosperous,  and  contented  Cow  all 
the  days  of  her  life.  And  what  do  you  think  the  Farrier  said 
when  he  came  to  hear  of  it?  Why,  he  declared  that  the  Giraffe's 
ointment  was  all  nonsense — it  was  his  own  dressing  of  the  stump 
Oiice  which  had  wrought  the  cure,  and  that  those  quacks  were 
always  trying  to  claim  credit  for  cures  which  the  regular  doctors 
had  really  made.  But  if  the  Farrier  knew  he  could  make  the 
Cow's  tail  grow  all  right  again,  why  did  he  bother  her  at  first 
with  all  those  false  tails? 

E.  H.  Knatchbull-Hugessen. 

Puss-Cat-Mew  Stones  for  my  Children,  Harper  Brothers, 


172  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

Lord  Cornwallis^s  Knce-Bucklcs* 

Have  you  ever  heard  about  the  Revolutionary  War?  It  vas 
fought  between  the  British  and  the  Americans  more  than  a  hun- 
dred years  ago.  I  will  tell  you  a  true  story  o£  a  little  girl  who 
lived  at  the  time. 

Her  name  was  Anne  Randolph,  and  she  lived  on  a  farm  not 
far  from  Philadelphia.  Her  father  and  her  two  brothers  had 
joined  the  American  army.  So  Anne  and  her  mother  were  left 
alone  to  take  care  of  the  farm. 

Two  years  before  this  time  Anne's  father  had  given  her  a  beau- 
tiful calf,  as  a  pet.  The  two  had  become  great  friends.  The 
young  cow  knew  her  little  mistress,  and  always  came  to  be 
stroked  when  Anne  went  into  the  field. 

At  one  time  during  the  war  the  English  army  was  in  Phila- 
delphia. 

One  day  the  soldiers  came  to  the  farm  of  Mr.  Randolph,  and 
seized  Anne's  pet  cow.  They  tied  a  rope  to  her  horns  and  drove 
her  away.  Anne  begged  for  her  pet,  and  was  in  great  grief,  but 
her  words  had  no  effect. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  Anne  to  think  what  she  could  do. 
She  ran  to  the  stable  and  saddled  her  pony,  and  then  rode  at  full 
speed  to  see  Lord  Cornwallis,  the  general  of  the  English  army. 
It  was  a  brave  thing  for  a  little  girl  only  twelve  years  of  age  to  do. 

A  soldier  with  his  gun  was  marching  back  and  forth  in  front 
of  the  place  where  the  general  was. 

*'  What  do  you  want?  "  he  asked  Anne,  as  she  galloped  up. 

*'I  wish  to  see  Lord  Cornwallis,"  she  said. 

**  What  is  your  business  with  him?  "  said  the  soldier. 

**I  must  see  him;  let  me  pass,"  replied  the  girl. 

The  soldier  let  her  pass,  thinking,  no  doubt,  she  had  very  im- 
portant news  to  tell. 

Lord  Cornwallis  and  some  of  his  friends  were  at  dinner  when 
little  Anne  rushed  into  the  room. 

**  What  do  you  want,  my  child?  "  said  the  general. 

*'  I  want  my  cow,  sir.  Your  soldiers  have  taken  her  away,  and 
I  have  come  to  get  her.  Oh !  please,  sir,  you  must  let  me  have 
her." 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  173 

*' And  who  are  you,  my  little  girl?  "  said  the  general,  kindly. 

*'Iam  Anne  Randolph,  and  I  live  three  miles  from  here  with 
my  mother.  Have  you  seen  my  cow,  sir?"  *'0h,  sir,"  she 
continued,  "I  raised  my  cow  myself.  She  has  always  been 
mine.  She  can't  belong  to  you.  I  must  have  her.  I  would  never 
steal  your  cow,  sir,"  she  said,  proudly. 

The  general  rose.  **Come  here,  my  child.  I  promise  you 
that  your  cow  shall  be  safe  in  your  barn  to-morrow;  and  here, 
take  these,"  he  said,  unfastening  a  pair  of  silver  knee-buckles. 
''Keep  them  to  remember  me  by,  and  if  the  soldiers  trouble 
your  cow  again,  come  to  me  at  once." 

The  general  kept  his  promise,  and  the  next  morning  Anne's 
cow  was  once  more  safely  housed  in  her  own  snug  stable. 

The  buckles  were  kept,  and  are  kept  to  this  very  day.  One  of 
Anne's  grandchildren  has  them. 

— Holmes'  New  Third  Reader, 

University  Publishing  Co.,  New  York. 


THE  DOG, 


To  THE  Teacher  :- 


The  preceding  talks  upon  animals  have  indi- 
cated sufficiently  a  way  of  dealing  with  such 
subjects.  Therefore,  instead  of  a  talk  upon 
"The  Dog,"  this  composition,  written  by 
Helen  Keller,  is  offered  as  containing  the 
material  from  which  the  teacher  can  take  what 
is  suitable  for  her  children. 

Most  people  will  have  read  of  this  wonder- 
ful little  girl,  who,  though  blind  and  deaf  and 
formerly  dumb,  has  acquired  such  a  command 
of  language  and  such  a  fund  of  information,  and 
who  has  such  a  lovely  character. 

The  stories  and  this  composition  are  exactly 
as  Helen  wrote  them,  save  for  the  omission 
of  a  few  sentences.  Everything  of  hers  which 
has  been  used  in  this  book  was  written  by 
Helen  when  she  was  about  ten  years  old  and 
had  been  under  instruction  about  three  and  a 
half  years.  E.  P. 


THE  TALK* 
The  Dog* 

Come  here,  Lioness,  I  have  many  strange  things  to  tell  you 
about  yourself.  You  may  not  believe  it  all,  but  it  is  true,  and 
you  must  be  still,  like  a  good  dog,  and  listen  to  what  I  have 
to  say. 

Of  course  you  know  that  you  belong  to  the  animal  kingdom. 
You  never  could  have  thought  you  were  a  plant  or  a  mineral, 
and  everything  else  in  the  world  belongs  to  the  animal  kingdom. 
You  have  a  backbone,  and  that  is  why  you  are  called  a  verte- 
brate ;  and  when  you  have  some  cunning  little  puppies,  you  will 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  175 

feed  them  with  milk,  as  other  mammals  do,  and  that  is  why  the 
wise  men  put  you  in  the  class  Mammalia.  Then,  Lioness,  you 
know  perfectly  well  that  you  like  raw  me^t  better  than  anything 
else  ;  and  animals  that  eat  raw  meat  are  catiivorous. 

How  many  feet  have  you?  Can't  you  count  four?  See,  here 
are  your  two  fore  paws,  and  there  are  your  two  hind  legs ;  and 
animals  which  have  four  feet  are  quadrupeds. 

Your  legs  are  not  as  slender  as  Guy's,  but  they  are  very  mus- 
cular. You  are  covered  with  pretty,  soft,  brown  hair.  It  is 
straight,  but  generally  dogs  wear  curled  coats.  Your  chest  is 
broad  and  deep,  so  that  you  can  take  a  good  breath  when  you 
wish  to  run  swiftly.  Your  head  is  pointed,  but  not  nearly  so 
much  so  as  Spoke's.  Your  mouth  is  filled  with  powerful  teeth, 
similar  in  shape  to  the  cat's  teeth.  You  must  not  pull  away 
your  head  so,  for  it  is  true.  You  are  like  Pussy  in  many  things. 
Your  tongue  is  soft,  and  you  use  it  to  lap  up  liquids.  You 
never  perspire  through  your  skin  as  other  animals  do.  When 
your  body  is  heated,  the  moisture  passes  off  from  your  tongue. 
That  is  why  you  always  run  with  your  tongue  hanging  out  of 
your  mouth.  The  under  parts  of  your  feet  are  padded,  like  the 
cat's.  There  are  five  toes  on  your  fore  feet,  and  five  on  your 
hind  feet.  The  two  middle  ones  are  longest  and  equal.  The 
fifth  toes  of  your  hind  feet  never  touch  the  ground.  Each  toe 
has  a  strong,  blunt  claw,  which  is  not  retractile.  Hence  you 
cannot  walk  as  noiselessly  as  Kitty.  Your  claws  are  better  fitted 
for  digging  and  holding. 

Your  sense  of  sight,  hearing  and  smell  are  very  perfect,  but 
your  sense  of  taste  is  not  well  developed.  If  you  are  hungry,  you 
will  eat  things  which  are  not  good  at  all.  You  can  live  a  long 
time  without  food  or  drink.  You  have  relations  in  all  countries. 
Wherever  there  is  a  man,  the  dog  is  his  best  friend.  You  love 
people  much  better  than  the  place  where  you  live ;  but  I  am 
afraid,  dear,  you  dislike  cats.  You  turn  round  many  times  be- 
fore you  lie  down.  Can  you  tell  me  why?  You  prick  up  your 
ears,  and  bark  at  the  least  noise  ;  and  I  am  sure  there  never  was 
such  a  brave  and  faithful  dog  as  you  are,  my  own  Lioness. 

Helen  Keller. 


176  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Origin  of  Species,    -        -        -        - Darwin 

Natural  History, -        -        J.  G.  Wood 

Rab  and  his  Friends,        -         -  -       -         -         -         '.        .    John  Brown,  M.  D. 

A  Dog  of  Flanders, -         -         Ouida 

To  Flush,  my  Dog,  -         -  Mrs.  Browning 

Lewellyn  and  his  Dog,      -^ R.  Southey 

Scragg's  Mission,  -         -       C.  E.  Bowen 

Tray,       ------ r.  Browning 

Song,  "  Old  Dog  Tray," 

Elegy  on  a  Mad  Dog, Goldsmith 

Dog  Stories,     -        -         -  '' St.  Nicholas,''  November,  1 886,  March,  1 887 

Famous  Pets,  ("Wide  Awake,"  December,  1886),  -         -         -    Eleanor  Lewis 
The  Dog  and  the  Water  Lily,   ^ 

On  a  Spaniel  called  Beau,  l_._____      Cowper 

Beau's  Reply,  J 

For  the  Children. 

Brave  Bobby,  -         -        -        -        -         -        -  Monroe's  Third  Reader. 


STORffiS. 

How  Frisk  Came  Home. 

One  of  my  friends  had  more  dogs  than  she  knew  what  to  do 
with;  so  she  thought,  "I  will  give  one  of  my  dogs  to  my  aunt 
in  Troy,  for  I  think  she  will  like  to  have  such  a  nice  black-and- 
white  dog  as  Frisk." 

So  Frisk  went  to  his  new  home,  twenty  miles  off. 

But  Frisk  did  not  like  his  new  home  so  well  as  his  old  one. 
In  his  old  home  he  was  a  great  pet ;  but  in  his  new  home,  no 
one  cared  much  for  Frisk ;  and  they  put  a  chain  on  his  neck,  and 
tied  him  up  in  the  yard. 

So  Frisk  sat  in  the  yard,  and  tried  to  get  rid  of  his  chain. 
But  this    he    could  not   do.     Then   he  was   quite  sad ;  and  he 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  177 

thought,  **  Oh !  if  I  could  but  get  back  to  my    old  home — if  I 
could  but  get  back  to  my  old  friends  once  more  !  " 

But  Frisk  did  not  know  the  way  back  to  his  old  home  ;  for, 
when  they  sent  him  to  his  new  home,  they  had  put  him  in  a  bag, 
and  they  had  tied  up  the  top  of  the  bag,  so  that  Frisk  might  not 
see  the  way  they  took  him.  So  Frisk  was  sad  because  he  was 
tied  by  a  chain,  and  because  he  did  not  know  the  way  back  to 
his  old  home. 

But  it  is  said,  **  Where  there  is  a  will,  there  is  a  way  ;  "  and  so 
Frisk  found  it,  as  you  shall  learn. 

One  day,  when  the  man  took  Frisk  out  in  the  road  for  a  run, 
Frisk  thought  to  himself,  **This  man  does  not  like  me  much, 
for  he  will  chain  me  up  if  I  let  him  take  me  back  to  my  new 
home.     So  I  will  take  a  run  all  by  myself,  and  not  with  the  man." 

And  then  Frisk  ran  under  a  bush,  and  sat  there  till  the  man 
was  far  off ;  and  when  the  man  turned  round  and  did  not  see 
Frisk  at  his  heels,  the  man  called  out,  "Frisk!  Frisk!  Here, 
sir,  here  I  Good  dog  !     Here,  Frisk  !  Frisk  !  Frisk  !  " 

'*No;  I  will  not  come;  I  will  stay  here  and  hide,"  thought 
Frisk.  *'  You  may  call  me  good  dog,  but  I  will  not  come.  I  try- 
to  be  a  good  dog,  and  yet  you  chain  me  up." 

Then  the  man  thought  he  should  find  Frisk  at  home  ;  but, 
when  the  man  got  home,  no  Frisk  was  to  be  seen.  The  night 
came,  and  still  no  Frisk  was  to  be  seen. 

**  I  think  Frisk  must  be  dead,"  said  the  man. 

"  But  was  Frisk  dead?  " 

Wait,  and  you  shall  hear.  A  whole  week  went  by,  and  noth- 
ing was  seen  or  heard  of  poor  Frisk. 

But  one  day  when  my  friend,  with  whom  Frisk  had  first  lived, 
went  out  with  her  children,  Mary  and  Edgar,  to  walk,  they  saw, 
a  short  way  from  the  house,  a  poor,  thin,  black  and  white  dog 
by  the  roadside. 

He  was  quite  lame,  for  his  feet  had  been  cut  with  sharp  stones, 
and  his  hair  was  red  with  blood. 

Then  all  at  once  Edgar  cried  out :  **  O,  mother  !  look  !  look  ! 
See  if  that  is  not  our  own  poor  Frisk  come  back  to  his  old 
home!" 

"So  it  is  our  own  poor  Frisk,"  said  my  friend.     "But  how 


178  IN  THE  CHILD*S  WORLD. 

could  he  have  found  his  way  back  twenty  miles,  all  the  way  from 
Troy  to  this  place?  For  he  was  tied  up  in  a  bag  when  we  sent 
him  off.     Poor  Frisk  !     How  thin  and  ill  you  look  !  " 

Then  Edgar  went  up  to  Frisk,  and  the  poor  dog  did  not  well 
know  what  to  do,  so  glad  was  he  to  see  the  little  boy.  And  my 
friend  went  up,  and  Mary  went  up,  and  they  all  patted  Frisk  on 
the  head. 

Then  they  took  Frisk  home,  and  gave  him  nice  milk  and  good 
meat,  for  he  had  not  had  food  for  days.  He  was  glad  to  be  fed, 
but  he  was  still  more  glad  to  be  in  his  old  home,  and  to  see  my 
friend  and  her  children  once  more. 

— Nursery  Stories. 


Cleverness  of  a  Sheep  Dog* 

Some  years  ago,  there  was  a  terrific  snowstorm  in  Scotland. 
The  snow  lay  in  great  drifts  many  feet  deep. 

The  farmers  were  very  anxious  about  their  sheep,  for  there 
were  hundreds  of  them  unsheltered  on  the  hills  at  the  time.  In 
one  farm,  no  fewer  than  three  hundred  were  missing,  and  the 
farmer  with  his  men  and  a  faithful  sheep  dog,  named  Rough, 
started  to  search  for  them. 

When  they  reached  the  fields,  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  great 
masses  and  drifts  of  snow,  several  feet  thick,  under  which  the 
poor  sheep  were  buried.  The  men  tried  to  penetrate  the  snow  in 
order  to  get  at  the  missing  animals  ;  but  their  labor  was  almost 
in  vain,  for  it  was  only  by  the  merest  chance  that  they  came 
across  a  sheep. 

The  snow  was  still  falling  fast  when  Rough  came  to  the  rescue. 
He  understood  what  was  to  be  done,  and,  running  quickly  over 
the  snow,  with  short,  sharp  barks,  he  dug  with  his  paws  little 
holes  in  various  places. 

The  men  went  to  work  beneath  these  marks,  and  under  each 
they  found  a  sheep !  Thus  they  worked  hard  all  night.  Rough 
showing  where  the  sheep  were  buried  and  the  men  digging  them 
out,  and  most  of  the  sheep  were  saved. 


FIVE  DOGS. 


179 


180  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

The  farmer  was  very  thankful  to  his  clever  dog  and  told  his 
friends  that  had  it  not  been  for  Rough  he  would  have  lost  every 
one  of  his  sheep  that  night.  As  it  was,  they  had  suffered  but 
little,  and,  with  careful  attention,  soon  recovered. 

—Little  Folks. 

Casselt  &  Co, 


The  Dog  and  the  Kitten* 

A  schoolmaster  had  a  small  dog  which  became  much  attached 
to  a  kitten.  They  were  in  the  habit  of  associating  together  be- 
fore the  kitchen  fire,  sometimes  sleeping  and  sometimes  playing. 
One  day  they  were  enjoying  a  comfortable  nap,  when  the  kettle 
boiled  over  and  scalded  the  dog,  who  ran  away  howling  piteously. 
He  had  not  gone  very  far,  however,  before  he  recollected  his 
companion;  he  returned  immediately,  took  up  the  kitten  in  his 
mouth,  and  carried  it  to  a  place  of  safety. 

— Selected. 


A  True  Story  of  a  Dog* 

The  following  anecdote,  which  is  perfectly  well  known  in  the 
town  in  which  the  circumstauces  occurred,  places  the  intelligence, 
kind  feeling,  and  noble  disposition  of  the  dog  in  a  strong  light, 
and  is  quite  equal  to  what  has  been  recorded  of  the  elephant  under 
nearly  similar  circumstances.  A  grocer  in  Worcester,  England, 
had  a  powerful  Newfoundland  dog,  which  was  reposing  on  the 
step  of  his  door,  when  a  sort  of  brewer's  sledge  was  going  rapidly 
down  the  hill  Jeading  to  the  bridge.  Just  as  the  sledge  was  pass- 
ing the  house,  a  little  boy  in  crossing  the  street  fell  down  in  the 
way  of  the  sledge,  and  would  have  been  killed,  had  not  the  dog 
seen  the  danger,  and,  rushing  forward,  seized  the  child  in  his 
mouth  just  in  time  to  save  his  life,  and  deposited  him  on  the  foot- 
way uninjured.  -^ 

— Selected. 


THE  COBBLER, 


To  THE  Teacher: 

"  Carlyle  used  to  rhapsodize  about  the  importance  of  realizing  the  wonder 
that  surrounds  our  daily  life,  and  he  himself,  if  he  were  going  to  portray  an 
object,  inveterately  sought  a  point  of  view  from  which  he  could  contemplate  it 
in  a  kind  of  surprise." 

This  is  a  wise  course  for  us  to  pursue  when  we  feel  ourselves  in  danger  of 
regarding  anything  as  commonplace  or  uninteresting;  though  it  seems  to  me 
that  kindergartners  or  any  others  who  live  close  to  child  life  catch  flashes  of 
the  "  wonderlight  "  that  invests  all  things  for  these  new  denizens  of  our  familiar 
world,  and  thus  often  discover  beauty  and  marvel  unnoticed  before. 

Beauty  and  marvel  are  high  words  to  apply  to  so  common  a  thing  as  a  shoe, 
but  study  its  whole  history  for  your  children's  sake  and  then  with  your  children, 
and  you  will  not  reject  marvel,  at  least. 

The  process  which  converts  the  animal  skin  into  leather  is  long  and  varied. 
I  have  only  copied  one  little  note  referring  to  the  tanning  proper;  that  is,  the 
long  soaking  in  a  solution  of  oak  bark  and  water,  made  stronger  from  day  to 
day. 

"  The  change  in  the  nature  of  the  skin  is  brought  about  by  the  action  of  the 
tannin  of  the  oak  bark  on  the  gelatine  of  the  skin,  and  so  causing  all  traces  of 
the  animal  substance  to  disappear.  In  proportion  as  this  change  is  thoroughly 
or  only  partially  effected,  is  the  quality  of  the  leather." 


THE  TALK. 

(In  an  old  reading  book  there  was  a  story  o£  a  little  boy  whose 
clothes  suddenly  began  talking  to  him  and  relating  in  turn  their 
several  histories. 

His  jacket  announced  that  it  had  once  been  white  wool  on  a 
sheep's  back;  the  brass  buttons  told  of  dark  mines  and  hot  fur- 
nace fires,  and  his  boots  added  their  tale  of  wonder. 

Some  such  story  as  this  would  make  an  interesting  beginning 


182  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

to  the  talk  upon  the  shoemaker.  For  use  throughout  the  talk 
have  a  shoe,  some  bits  of  leather, — sole  leather  and  the  thinner 
kinds  for  the  uppers, — as  well  as  a  picture  of  the  cow.) 

Don't  you  think  it  would  be  very  funny  if  your  clothes  should 
begin  to  talk  to  you?  "What  did  the  little  boy's  jacket  say?  If 
Leo's  jacket  spoke  would  it  say  it  came  from  the  sheep's  back, 
too?  And  Amy's  dress?  Yes.  But  Mary's  apron  would  tell  a 
different  story.  That  feels  smooth  when  we  touch  it,  but  Leo's 
jacket  and  Amy's  dress  have  a  rough,  woolly  feeling  like  the 
worsted  balls  and  the  worsted  we  sew  with,  so  we  know  that  they 
are  made  from  the  wool  the  sheep  gave  us. 

How  would  you  like  to  have  this  shoe  tell  you  its  story?  Let 
us  listen ! 

No,  it  does  not  say  a  word,  so  I  shall  have  to  speak  for  it. 

First  I  will  show  you  a  picture  of  an  old  friend,  a  good,  useful 
animal. 

What  does  the  cow  give  us?  (Children  name  such  products  as 
they  became  familiar  with  through  the  lesson  on  the  cow. 

Teacher  then  shows  them  the  sole  of  the  shoe  and  the  piece  of 
sole  leather.)  Does  this  leather  look  like  the  skin  of  the  cow? 
No;  the  hair  had  to  be  all  taken  off  and  the  skin  had  to  be 
cleaned  j  then  it  had  to  be  soaked — sometimes  a  month,  some- 
times a  whole  year — and  then  dried  before  it  was  like  this.  Still, 
it  IS  a  piece  of  the  cow's  skin,  so  we  must  thank  the  cow  for  the 
good  thick  leather  for  the  soles  of  our  boots. 

But  if  Rosie's  shoe  or  Tommy's  shoe  were  talking,  it  would 
say:  *'I  am  not  all  made  of  the  thick  cow-skin."  And  we  can 
see  how  much  thinner  the  upper  part  is  than  the  sole,  can  we 
not?  (Let  the  children  compare  the  thinner  pieces  of  leather 
with  their  own  shoes.)  Men  have  boots  of  cowhide,  but  it  is 
very  thick  and  stiff.  This  thinner  leather  is  better  for  ours,  and 
what  do  you  suppose  it  is  made  of?  Some  of  calfskin,  some  of 
goatskin ;  and  this  very  soft,  thin  leather,  of  the  skin  of  a  kid  or 
young  goat.  So  we  must  thank  these  animals,  as  well  as  the 
cow,  for  the  leather  out  of  which  our  boots  and  shoes  are  made, 
must  we  not  ? 

Do  you  think  there  is  anyone  else  to  thank?  Some  one  had  to 
make  the  leather  into  shoes ;  who  was  that  ? 


DT  THE  child's  WORLD. 


183 


(Recite  the  words  of  *'  The  Cobbler,"  explaining  the  use  of  the 
awl,  the  last,  the  waxed  ends,  pegs,  lapstone,  hammer,  etc. 
Have  the  children  recall  the  other  workers  they  have  learned  of 
or  noticed.) 

Suppose  no  one  worked,  what  would  happen? 


TEACHER'S  READING. 


Sir  Gibbie,       ---------      George  MacDonald 

Only  an  Incident  ("The  New  England  Magazine," 

December,  1891), Herbert  D.  Ward 

The  Goloshes  of  Fortune,  "\  u^,.^  ^l^:,.^:  .  a   j 

The  Red  Shoes,  ]      '        '        '        '        '     ^^^^  Christian  Andersen 

Blessed  be  Drudgery, -  W.  C.  Gannett 

Hannah  Binding  Shoes,  --------  Lucy  Larcom 

Baby's  Shoes,           -        -        - W.  C.  Bennett 

The  Shoenaakers,                \  n/z,-«- 

Cobbler  Keezar's  Vision,  J Whittier 

Urania.     A  Rhymed  Lesson,  -        -        -        -        -        -        •  O.  W.  Holmes 

Much  Coin,  Much  Care,            -------  Mrs.  Jameson 

For  the  Children. 

Rosemond  and  the  Purple  Jar,  --,--.  Edgeworth 

The  Elves  and  the  Shoemaker, -        Folk  Story 

Gutta  Percha  Willie, George  MacDonald 

Leather  ("  Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning  Talks "),  -       S.  E.  Wiltse 


184  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


STORffiS. 

Goody  Two  Shoes* 

A  queer  name  for  a  little  girl,  to  be  sure,  but  it  was  no  wonder 
that  people  called  her  * '.Goody  Two  Shoes,"  as  you  shall  soon 
hear. 

Her  real  name  was  Margery,  and  her  brother's  name  was 
Tommy;  and  the  two  poor  little  things  had  no  kind  father  to 
work  and  earn  money  to  buy  food  and  clothes  for  them,  and  no 
mother  "  good  and  dear  "  to  take  care  of  them.  So  they  wan- 
dered about,  always  together,  hand  in  hand,  poor  and  ragged 
and  lonely,  and  often  tired  and  hungry. 

The  people  in  the  village  used  to  give  them  something  to  eat, 
and  the  children  often  found  berries  in  the  woods  and  along  the 
roadside.  Every  night,  when  the  sun  set  and  it  began  to  grow 
dark.  Tommy  and  Margery  would  walk  up  to  some  farmhouse 
and  say  to  the  farmer  or  his  wife  :  *'  If  you  please,  may  we  sleep 
in  your  barn  to-night  ?  ' ' 

**  Yes,  indeed,  and  very  welcome,"  the  farmer  would  say  ;  and 
then  the  two  children  would  run  to  the  barn  and  make  them- 
selves a  cosy,  warm  nest  in  the  hay  and  be  as  happy  as  two  little 
birds. 

But  there  are  so  many  kind  people  in  the  world  that  children 
are  not  long  left  to  wander  about  without  a  home,  as  Tommy 
and  Margery  had  been  doing;  and  it  happened  that  a  kind 
gentleman  who  saw  them  trotting  about  together  one  day  felt 
very  sorry  for  them. 

He  saw  Margery's  fat  little  feet  all  scratched  with  walking 
barefoot  over  stones  and  stubble.  *'  I  can  cure  that,"  he  said  to 
himself ;  and  he  took  the  children  to  the  cobbler's  and  said : 
*'  Good  Mr.  Cobbler,  here  is  work  for  you.     Will  you  do  it?  " 

*'That  I  will,  and  gladly,"  answered  the  cobbler.  So  he 
measured  Margery's  foot,  that  he  might  know  just  how  large  to 
make  the  shoes,  and  set  to  work  immediately. 

He  cut  two  pieces  of  leather  from  a  large,  thick  piece  which 
he  had,  and  shaped  them  for  the  suic&.     And  he  cut  the  uppers 


THE  COBBLER. 


186  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

from  the  thin  leather;  and  busy  enough  he  was  then,  boring 
holes  with  his  '*nice  little  awl,"  and  "puttting  his  waxed  ends 
through  and  through"  as  he  stitched  away,  sewing  the  leather 
together  for  Margery's  shoes.  But  while  the  cobbler  was  working 
away,  the  kind  gentleman  who  had  told  him  to  make  the  shoes 
had  been  making  some  more  kind  plans. 

*'  Tommy,"  said  he,  '*I  will  take  you  with  me  when  I  go  back 
to  my  ship,  and  you  shall  learn  to  be  a  sailor ;  "  and  good  Mrs. 
Smith  said :   **  Surely,  then,  little  Margery  shall  live  with  me." 

So  it  was  settled ;  the  only  sad  thing  being  that  Tommy  and 
Margery  had  to  be  separated.  They  cried  and  kissed  each  other 
many  times  when  the  day  came  for  Tommy  to  go  away.  After 
he  had  gone,  little  Margery  went  one  day  and  looked  in  at  the 
cobbler's  window. 

There  he  sat  with  a  big  fiat  stone  on  his  lap  and  a  hammer  in 
his  hand,  and  what  was  he  doing  but  rap-tap-tapping  away,  put- 
ting the  pegs  into  Margery's  shoes  and  fastening  the  uppers  and 
soles  together  !  You  may  be  sure  it  was  not  long  after  that  be- 
fore the  shoes  were  finished :  and  a  good  thing  it  was,  too,  for 
they  say  that  poor  little  Margery  was  so  very  lonely  without  her 
brother,  that  she  might  have  cried  herself  sick  but  for  the  new 
shoes  that  were  brought  home  to  her. 

Dear  me  !  if  you  could  but  have  seen  how  pleased  she  was ! 
She  had  had  to  go  barefoot  a  long  time,  you  must  remember,  and 
her  little  feet  had  often  been  cold  and  scratched  and  hurt. 
Besides,  the  new  shoes  were  so  shiny  and  black,  and  creaked  a 
little  when  Margery  walked.  Yes,  indeed,  it  was  delightful 
altogether. 

Margery  showed  them  to  Mrs.  Smith  as  soon  as  ever  the  cob- 
bler had  put  them  on  for  her. 

**  Two  shoes,  ma'am  !  Two  snoes  !  "  said  the  happy  little  crea- 
ture over  and  over  again.  I  suppose  she  could  scarcely  remem- 
ber having  had  two  shoes  before,  because  she  had  been  barefoot 
so  long ;  and  before  that  she  had  gone  about  with  only  one  shoe  on 
for  a  long  time  !  The  other  shoe  had  been  lost  when  she  and 
Tommy  first  began  their  wanderings. 

At  any  rate,  little  Margery  seemed  overjoyed  at  having  two 
new  shoes  at  once,  and  ran  about  first  to  one  friend  in  the  village 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  187 

and  then  to  another,  always  putting  her  feet  out  and  saying: 
**  Two  shoes  !     See,  two  shoes  !  " 

Everybody  was  glad  to  see  the  little  girl  so  joyful,  and  they 
used  to  smile  at  one  another  in  a  happy  way  and  say:  *'Have 
you  seen  little  Two  Shoes?  "  or,  **  There  goes  Goody  Two  Shoes, 
bless  her  heart !  "  till  finally  people  scarcely  ever  remembered  to 
call  her  Margery. 

So  now  I  have  told  you,  as  I  said  I  would,  how  a  little  girl 
came  to  have  such  a  queer  name  as  **  Goody  Two  Shoes,"  and, 
if  you  like,  you  shall  hear  more  about  her  another  time,  for  she 
was  a  little  dear  and  no  mistake,  and  did  many  things  well  worth 
your  hearing  about. 

Retold  by  Emilie  Poulsson. 


Seeing  Shoes  Made* 

Now  and  then  I  take  the  children  of  my  kindergarten  to  see 
the  actual  doing  of  work  which  we  represent  in  our  play. 

One  day  we  went  to  see  shoes  made.  There  were  several  peo- 
ple working  in  a  large  room  and  each  one  was  doing  something 
different.  One  man  was  cutting  out  the  soles  of  shoes ;  another 
the  uppers,  as  they  call  the  leather  which  covers  the  upper  part 
of  the  foot.  As  soon  as  these  were  cut  they  were  put  into  water 
to  soak,  so  as  to  soften  the  leather. 

Another  man  was  fastening  an  inner  sole  to  a  last,  or  wooden 
foot,  by  means  of  pegs  which  he  was  driving  in  with  his  shoe- 
maker's hammer.  This  hammer  has  one  end  '*like  our  roller" 
(the  cylinder  of  the  second  gift),  as  the  children  said,  ''only  the 
edge  is  rounded." 

"Why  do  you  have  a  roundea  edge  to  your  hammer?  "  asked 
Jack  of  the  man. 

**  If  it  were  not  rounded  it  might  damage  the  leather,  and 
even  make  holes  in  it  when  I  hammer  hard,"  said  the  man. 

*^  You  pound  with  the  roller  end  of  the  hammer,"  said  Nellie, 
*'  but  what  do  you  do  with  the  flat  end?  " 

"  Look  and  see,"  said  the  man. 

*'  Oh  !  you  rub  the  leather  with  that,  don't  you?     Why?  " 


188  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

**  To  make  it  softer.  If  we  did  not  soften  the  leather  it  would 
hurt  people's  feet." 

**  What  do  you  do  next?  '*  asked  Mary. 

**That  is  all  /do;  but  if  you  will  go  over  there  (pointing  to 
another  part  of  the  room)  you  will  see  what  is  done  next." 

So  we  all  went  where  the  man  had  pointed,  and  saw  another 
man  stretching  the  uppers  over  a  last  and  trimming  them  until 
they  fitted  exactly.  "When  this  was  done  he  handed  the  uppers 
to  a  girl  who  sewed  them  together  with  a  sewing  machine.  Then 
they  were  lined,  and  the  stiffening  was  put  into  the  heel.  Then 
a  man  stretched  the  uppers  over  a  last  again,  and  fastened  them 
to  the  inner  sole  which  had  been  nailed  upon  it ;  after  which  the 
outer  sole  was  laid  on.  The  next  thing  that  was  done  amused 
the  children  greatly.  The  man  filled  his  mouth  with  wooden 
pegs !  Then,  picking  up  his  hammer,  he  seized  a  peg  from  his 
mouth,  placed  it  quickly  where  the  sole  joined  the  upper,  and 
drove  it  swiftly  in  with  his  hammer ;  took  another  peg  and  drove 
that  in  in  the  same  way ;  then  another  and  another,  as  fast  as  he 
could  make  his  hands  go. 

**We  should  have  to  play  'cobbler'  a  long  time  before  we 
could  make  our  fingers  fly  like  that !  "  said  one  of  the  children. 

Then  we  went  to  examine  the  sewing  machines  by  which  the 
shoes  were  bound,  and  also  the  grummet  machine  which  puts  in 
the  grummets,  (those  rings  through  which  the  shoestrings  are 
laced) .  The  children  thought  the  grummet  machine  looked 
somewhat  like  the  machinery  of  the  oil  mill  in  Froebel's  "  Mother 
Play  Book." 

Some  of  the  shoes  made  at  this  factory  were  buttoned  instead 
of  laced.  The  buttonholes  are  made  in  that  extra  piece  which 
folds  over  on  one  side,  then  the  piece  is  stitched  on,  and  the  but- 
tons sewed  in  place. 

There  were  several  other  things  done  before  the  shoes  were 
ready  for  sale,  but  they  cannot  all  be  talked  of  now.  When  we 
went  back  to  the  kindergarten  we  had  a  fine  time  playing 
** Cobbler,"  which,  at  the  children's  request,  was  followed  by  the 
"Grummet  Machine  Play,"  which  we  originated  for  the  occasion. 

Josephine  Jar  vis. 

Cobden,  III, 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  189 


*  The  Cobbler  and  the  Children^ 

A  great  many  years  ago  a  cobbler  lived  in  a  large  city  on  the 
other  side  of  the  ocean.  He  was  very  fond  of  children,  and  was 
sorry  for  those  poor  little  children  who  had  no  **  play-place  "  but 
the  street,  and  no  one  to  take  care  of  them  all  day.  The  fathers 
were  at  work,  and  as  they  were  so  very  poor,  the  mothers  too, 
had  to  be  away  all  day  washing,  or  cleaning  house,  or  doing  other 
work ;  so  they  could  not  do  much  for  their  children.  This  cob- 
bler thought  that  if  he  could  persuade  the  children  to  come  to 
his  shop,  they  would  have  a  better  time  and  would  at  least  learn 
more  than  they  could  by  playing  in  the  street.  He  began  with 
one  child.  One  day  when  a  little  boy,  whom  we  will  call  John- 
nie, came  to  his  shop  with  a  pair  of  boots  that  needed  patching, 
the  coobler  said:  ** Johnnie,  suppose  you  come  in  to-morrow 
and  see  me  mend  these  boots.  Then  you  will  be  ready  to  take 
them  home  when  they  are  done." 

**  Yes,  I  will,"  said  Johnnie. 

He  came  quite  early  the  next  day,  but  the  cobbler  was  in  his 
shop  still  earlier  and  had  put  some  leather  to  soak  in  water  so  as 
to  make  it  softer  than  it  would  otherwise  be.  He  meant  to  make 
the  patch  of  this  leather.  When  Johnnie  came  the  cobbler  took 
the  leather  and  pounded  it  with  the  cylinder  end  of  the  ham- 
mer, and  rubbed  it  with  the  fiat  end  till  it  was  soft  enough  to 
use. 

'*"Was  the  cylinder  end  of  his  hammer  like  our  kindergarten 
cylinder?  " 

Yes,  but  the  edge  was  not  sharp  like  the  edge  of  yours ;  it  was 
rounded  so  as  not  to  cut  the  leather.  Then  the  cobbler  put  the 
boot  on  a  last,  (that  is  a  solid  wooden  shoe  or  boot,  you  know) , 
and  cut  a  paper  pattern  of  the  piece  he  wanted  to  put  over  the 
hole  in  the  boot.  Then  he  cut  out  the  leather  by  the  pattern 
and  sewed  it  on  the  boot,  with — what  do  you  suppose  ? 

** Needle  and  thread?" 

You  are  partly  right.  He  used  strong,  black  linen  thread,  but 
instead  of  a  needle  he  used  hog's  bristles.  He  raveled  one  end 
of  the  thread,  put  a  strong  bristle  in  among  the  loose  ends 
and  then  with  shoemaker's  wax  like  this   (showing  a  piece)  he 


*  John  Pounds,  who  lived  in  Portsmouth,  England.     1766-1939. 


190  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

fastened  the  threads  and  the  bristle  together.  He  made  holes 
in  the  patch  and  in  the  boot,  just  as  far  apart  as  he  wished  for 
the  length  of  his  stitches,  and  sewed  the  patch  on  with  his  bris- 
tle and  thread.  Long  before  he  had  finished  his  work,  which 
Johnnie  watched  with  great  interest,  another  boy  had  looked 
into  the  shop,  and  seeing  Johnnie  there,  had  come  in;  then 
another  child  came,  and  another,  until  there  were  as  many  as 
a  dozen  children  looking  on  at  the  cobbler's  work.  These  chil- 
dren had  such  a  good  time  that  they  came  back  again  and  again, 
and  brought  others  with  them,  till  the  shop  was  full  every 
day.  After  a  while  the  cobbler  began  to  teach  them  to  read  and 
to  spell.  He  taught  them  to  count,  too.  They  counted  his 
pieces  of  leather  and  his  awls  and  pegs  and  other  things.  Some 
of  the  boys  learned  to  mend  shoes  themselves,  so  that  when  they 
grew  up  they  could  be  cobblers  and  earn  their  own  living  in  that 
way.  The  children  learned  other  things  from  the  good  man; 
and  so,  because  this  poor  cobbler  loved  children  so  much,  and 
did  "what  he  could  for  them,  many  who  might  otherwise  have 
had  no  teaching  at  aU,  grew  up  to  be  good  and  useful  men  and 
women. 

Josephine  Jarvis. 

Cobden,  lU. 


ST,  VALENTINFS  DAY, 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


ife.- 


Though  a  less  important  red-letter  day 
than  the  others  which  we  celebrate  in  the 
kindergarten,  there  is  good  reason  for  taking 
notice  of  Valentine's  Day.  We  can  show 
the  children  how  to  put  a  loving,  friendly 
message  into  the  gay  missives  so  ttttractive 
to  children's  eyes ;  and  how  to  have  all  the 
pleasure  of  the  pretty  old  custom  without 
the  use  of  the  coarse  and  hideous  "comic  " 
valentine. 

The  disputes  concerning  the  oi-igin  of  the 
day's  observance  need  not  trouble  us.  The 
story  of  the  good  old  St.  Valentine,  who  was 
so  distinguished  for  love  and  cuarity,  is  as 
probable  as  any^  and  is  the  most  suitable 
for  chlidrea. 


STORffiS. 

Philip's  Valentines* 

In  the  month  of  January,  in  the  year  of  eighty-eight, 

Little  Master  Philip  Urbis  had  been  so  unfortunate 

As  to  have  the  mumps  and  measles  both,  besides  the  whoopinp  cough. 

So  away  to  get  the  country  air  his  mother  packed  him  off. 

'T  was  in  vain  his  little  brothers  both  declared  it  was  too  bad, 

That  already  more  than  one  boy's  share  of  fun  had  Philip  had; 

They  had  only  had  the  mumps,  and  so  it  surely  wasn't  fair 

That  with  Philip's  other  extras  he  should  have  the  country  air. 

But  their  mother  took  no  heed  of  any  hints  or  discontent. 

And,  in  spite  of  all  their  grumbling,  to  the  country  Philip  went. 

In  the  month  of  February,  in  the  year  of  eighty-eight. 
Little  Philip  for  the  fourteenth  day  could  scarcely  bear  to  wait; 
For  he  dearly  loved  the  valentines  that  came  upon  that  day, 
With  their  wonders  of  lace  paper  and  their  pictures  gilt  and  gay. 
He  had  saved  his  pocket  money,  and  the  whole  he  hoped  to  spend 


192  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


In  valentines  for  those  at  home,  each  schoolmate  and  each  friend. 
And  his  Auntie  said,  "  Yes,  Philip,  we'll  have  great  fun,  you  and  I, 
When  we  drive  to  Danvers  Center,  all  the  valentines  to  buy." 
And  she  secretly  expected  to  get  some  for  Philip  then. 
But  we  know  what  oft  befalls  the  best-laid  plans  of  mice  and  men. 

On  the  tenth  of  February,  in  the  year  of  eighty-eight, 

There  set  in  a  dismal  snowstorm  that  seemed  most  unfortunate; 

For  in  such  a  blinding,  drifting  way  the  snow  kept  coming  down, 

As  to  make  it  quite  impossible  for  Phil  to  go  to  town. 

The  eleventh,  twelfth  and  thirteenth,  and  the  longed-for  fourteenth  came, 

And  still  the  country  roads  were  blocked  with  snowdrifts  just  the  same. 

And  not  a  single  valentine  had  Phil  to  send  away. 

And  not  a  one  could  he  expect  upon  this  stormy  day. 

So  it  seemed  that  snowy  morning  as  if  not  a  ray  of  joy 

Could  be  coaxed  to  shine  upon  the  disappointed  little  boy. 

But  his  Auntie  put  her  wits  to  work  to  somehow  celebrate 

On  this  fourteenth  day  of  February,  eighteen  eighty-eight. 

Now,  as  Philip  rose  at  seven,  Auntie  had  to  rise  at  six. 

So  that  Philip  should  not  catch  her  at  her  little  secret  tricks; 

But  that  hour  sped  so  swiftly  that  her  work  was  scarcely  done, 

When  there  came  a  shout  from  Philip's  room:   "  0  Auntie  dear,  what  fnn! 

I  was  just  about  disgusted  when  I  saw  the  snow  and  sleet. 

But  I've  found  a  little  letter  pinned  right  here  upon  my  sheet. 

It's  directed  to  me.  Auntie,  so  it  surely  must  be  mine. 

And,  although  it's  only  '  pen  and  ink,'  it's  like  a  valentine." 

"  Philip  my  darling,  Philip  my  dear, 
Valentine's  Day  is  surely  here; 
And  yet  I  hope  you  will  not  repine. 
Although  you  don't  get  any  valentine; 
For,  Philip  my  darling,  Philip  my  dear, 
I  love  you  every  day  of  the  year." 

Just  as  Philip  finished  reading  and  was  getting  out  of  bed, 

A  letter  flew  in  at  the  door  and  hit  him  on  the  head. 

And  his  Auntie  heard  him  laughing  as  he  picked  it  up  and  read  j  — 

"  The  snow  may  fall,  the  sun  may  shine. 
Still  I'm  your  loving  valentine; 
But  do  not  waste  your  time  in  guessing 
Who  I  may  be,  but  go  on  dressing; 
For  in  this  wild  and  wlnciy  storm 
My  love  alone  can't  keep  you  warm." 

"  Well."  said  Auntie  from  the  stairway,  "  hope  you'll  take  that  good  advice ! 
*  O,  yes!  "  answered  Philip  gaily,  "  I'll  be  ready  in  a;  trice," 


PHILIP^S  FIRST  VALENTINE. 


19.3 


194  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

And  he  soon  was  at  the  table,  bright  and  happy  as  could  be, 
"Where  the  oatmeal  porridge  waited,  steaming  most  invitingly. 
"I've  two  valentines  already — do  you  s'pose  I'll  get  some  more?" 
And  his  napkin  then  unfolding,  something  dropped  upon  the  floor. 
"  Yes!  it  is!  it  is  another,  though  a  very  little  one; 
Now  I'll  read  it  to  you,  Auntie;  don't  you  think  they're  jolly  fun?" 

"  Porridge  hot. 
Porridge  cold; 
My  love  for  you 
Cannot  be  told." 

So  read  Philip  from  his  valentine,  and  then  his  porridge  ate, 

And  Auntie  served  the  breakfast  soon  and  passed  to  Phil  his  plate: 

But  no  sooner  did  he  take  it  than  he  shrieked  out  with  delight. 

For  beneath  his  baked  potato  was  a  little  paper,  white. 

And  he  knew  it  was  a  valentine,  it  looked  so  like  the  rest. 

So  he  quickly  tore  it  open  and  then  read  the  rhyme  with  zest: — 

"  When  Philip  does  his  breakfast  eat. 
Of  baked  potato  and  minced  meat, 
Oh !  may  his  heart  to  me  incline, 
For  I'm  his  loving  valentine." 

Little  Philip's  expectations  now  were  raised  up  very  high, 

And  his  eyes  were  roving  everywhere  a  valentive  to  spy; 

Even  looking  in  the  milk  pitcher  and  in  the  sugar  bowl; 

And  breaking  open  carefully  his  nice  hot  breakfast  roll. 

But  there  was  no  use  in  looking,  for  he  found  no  tell-tale  signs 

Of  the  whereabouts  of  any  more  of  those  queer  valentines; 

Till  a  little  after  breakfast.  Auntie  said :    "  Now,  Philip  dear. 

We  must  not  forget  your  medicine,  so  bring  the  bottle  here." 

Now  of  course  Philip  hated  dosing,  so  he  started  with  a  frown, 

But  it  quickly  changed  to  laughter  as  he  took  the  bottle  down; 

For  upon  the  cork  was  fastened  something  which  he  knew  must  be 

Another  of  those  valentines  which  he  so  liked  to  see. 

And  upon  it  neatly  written,  this  the  legend  that  it  bora. 

And  though  Phil  had  liked  the  others,  he  liked  this  one  even  more:- 

*'  Oh !  take  the  '  iron,  beef  and  wine,* 
But  sweeten  well  this  dose  of  thine 
With  loving  thoughts  of 

Valen'HNE.'^' 

That  he  took  his  spoonful  smilingly  I  scarcely  need  to  say; 
Then  to  look  at  the  thermometer  outside  he  rushed  away; 
And  in  half  a  second  Auntie  heard  him  give  another  gleeful  shout. 
For  behold!   from  the  thermometer  a  valentine  peeped  outl 


IN   THE  CHILD*S   WORLD.  195 

'*  A  funny  place  indeed  for  one/'  botii  Phil  and  Auntie  said; 
Then  opening  the  frosty  note,  this  bit  of  rhyme  they  read:  — 

"  Thermometers  may  go  to  zero, 
But  I  will  bear  it  like  a  hero. 
If  little  Phil  will  not  decline 
To  take  me  for  his  valentine." 

Now  the  storm  had  ceased,  and  though  it  was  not  yet  a  pleasant  day, 

Auntie  said  that  Phil  might  bundle  up  and  go  out  doors  to  play. 

So  he  put  his  little  valentines  all  carefully  aside, 

Reading  all  the  verses  once  again  with  fresh  delight  and  pride. 

Disappointment  was  forgotten  and  he  seemed  to  have  no  thought 

Of  the  gorgeous  fancy  valentines  the  "  fourteenth  "  should  have  brought. 

"  Arctics  will  be  better,  Philip,  than  your  rubber  boots,  I  know. 

For  this  storm  of  sleet  has  made  a  good  firm  crust  upon  the  snow." 

"  All  right.  Auntie;   come  here,  arctics!        Oh!   where  is  the  buttonhook? 

I  declare!     Another  valentine!     It's  well  I  chanced  to  look 

In  my  arctics,  though  I  didn't  think  a  valentine  was  there. 

But  I  guess  the  safest  way  will  be  to  look  sharp  everywhere." 

"  Time  flies,  and  with  him  bears  away 
Our  winter  sports  and  frolics  gay; 
But  all  may  go,  I  will  not  repine. 
If  Phil  will  be  my  valentine." 

Phil  put  this  one  with  the  others  and  got  ready  then  to  go 
With  his  fur  cap  and  big  ulster,  looking  like  an  Esquimau. 
Then  he  asked  his  Auntie  if  he  might  the  old  umbrella  take, 
"  For  if  the  crust  will  bear,  you  see,  I  may  an  ice-boat  make, 
Like  the  one  I  had  the  other  day — oh!   how  my  sled  did  go! 
Just  like  lightning  on  the  pond,  and  so  I  want  to  try  the  snow.'' 
Now  a  twinkle  came  in  Auntie's  eyes  as  Philip  asked  her  this, 
But  she  put  a  sober  face  on  as  she  gave  the  boy  a  kiss. 
Telling  him  the  old  umbrella  must  be  somewhere  in  the  hall. 
And  that  he  might  take  it  if  he  wouldn't  get  a  dreadful  fall. 
So  away  went  Philip  with  the  big  umbrella  and  his  sled. 
And  to  watch  him  as  he  started,  to  the  window  Auntie  sped. 
When  Philip  opened  the  umbrella,  out  fell  something  on  the  snow, 
And  in  spite  of  walls  and  distance.  Auntie  faintly  heard  his  "  OhP' 
And  he  soon  rushed  in  the  house  again  with  this  new  valentine, 
Reading  it  as  though  he  thought  it  was  particularly  fine: — 

"  I  know  a  little  fellow. 
Who  takes  a  big  umbrella, 
And  he  holds  it  for  a  sail 
Right  before  the  wintry  gale; 


i96  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

Andit  takes  him  straight  ahead 
As  he  sits  upon  his  sled, 
And  he  skims  across  the  ice 
In  a  twinkling — in  a  trice! 
Now  who  is  it,  do  you  say, 
Who  behaves  in  such  a  way? 
'T  is  the  boy  who  reads  each  line 
Of  this  wondrous  valentine !  " 

**  Auntie  do  you  think  the  valentines  will  come  like  this  all  day?  " 

Phil  inquired,  but  his  Auntie  said  she  really  could  not  say. 

"Well,  if  you  find  any,  Auntie,  you  will  surely  let  me  know." 

Then  away  again  went  Philip  to  his  ice-boat  and  the  snow. 

And  his  Auntie,  seated  at  her  desk,  took  up  her  pen  to  write. 

Resigned  to  grinding  out  more  rhymes — they  gave  Phil  such  delight; 

When  suddenly,  to  her  surprise,  there  broke  upon  her  ear 

A  merry,  ringing,  jingling  sound  that  told  a  sleigh  was  near. 

She  had  scarcely  reached  the  window  to  look  out  of  it  before 

The  sound  had  ceased,  and  lo!  the  sleigh  was  at  the  very  door. 

And  the  jolly,  red-faced  butcher  called  out  in  his  friendly  way: 

"Well,  I  guess  you  didn't  calculate  I'd  get  around  to-day; 

And  I've  had  a  mighty  job  of  it  a-ploughing  through  the  snow. 

For  puttin'  fust  tracks  in  the  road  makes  progress  mighty  slow. 

'  But  business  must  be  'tended  to  and  folks  must  eat,'  says  I; 

And  then  I  brought  your  mail  up,  too,  as  I  was  comin'  by. 

Most  of  them  is  for  that  youngster,  and  if  I  can  read  the  signs, 

I  should  say  the  little  fellow  has  a  lot  of  valentines." 

Auntie  thanked  the  butcher  heartily,  and  glad  indeed  was  she 

So  many  fancy  envelopes,  addressed  to  Phil,  to  see. 

Then  when  she  had  chosen  what  she  wished  from  out  the  butcher's  sleigh, 

And  the  jolly  butcher  once  again  had  started  on  his  way. 

Auntie  put  away  her  writing,  feeling  very  glad  indeed 

That  of  home-made  valentines  there  now  should  be  no  further  need. 

As  for  Phil,  it  disappointed  him  a  little  bit  to  find 

That  these  other  valentines  were  all  the  "  ordinary  "  kind. 

And  although  he  liked  their  splendor,  still  'twas  with  a  fonder  pride 

That  he  showed  the  little  home-made  ones  that  looked  so  plain  beside. 

And  a  few  weeks  later  when  he  went  back  home  quite  strong  and  well. 

And  his  little  brothers  asked  him  of  his  country  life  to  tell, 

Oftener  than  other  doings,  he  would  all  the  fun  relate. 

Of  that  fourteenth  day  of  February,  eighteen  eighty-eight. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


WASHINGTON'S  BIRTHDAY, 


To  THE  Teacher:— 

So  many  ways  of  beginning  this  talk  offer 
themselves  that  it  is  difi&cuit  to  choose  into 
which  link  of  the  past  we  shall  clasp  this 
new  one.  Shall  we  look  back  to  Thanks- 
giving Day  and  its  bit  of  history?  Shall  we 
review  the  New  Year  Story  and  let  Febru- 
ary's gift  of  George  Washington's  picture 
be  the  starting  point?  Or,  shall  we  link  our 
great  man  and  his  work  with  the  humble 
workers  we  have  spoken  of  heretofore!  Ap- 
proach it  as  we  will,  let  us  try  through  the 
week's  talks,  stories,  lessons  and  plays,  to 
draw  a  clear  picture  of  Wasnington's  impressive  character.  Let  us  tell  those 
stories  of  his  childhood,  youth  and  manhood  which  will  enable  the  children  to 
see  for  themselves  some  of  his  strong  and  noble  traits,  instead  of  their  merely 
memorizing  the  fact  that  George  Washington  was  a  good  man  for  our  assevera- 
tions. The  impression  upon  their  minds  and  hearts  will  thus  be  deeper  and 
truer. 

One  of  my  little  pupils  gave  a  very  appreciative  estimate  of  Washington  in 
answer  to  her  little  sister's  question  as  to  whether  Washington  was  a  king. 
**  No,"  said  Anna,  thoughtfully,  "  he  was  not  a  king.  He  was  a  president;  but 
I  think  he  was  a  king  in  his  heart. " 


AP=U«  of  1779 


THE  TALK, 


A  holiday  is  coming  soon.  You  know  Thanksgiving  Day  was 
a  holiday,  and  Christmas  Day,  and  New  Year's  Day ;  and  now 
in  February  we  shall  have  Washington's  Birthday. 

The  schools  and  a  great  many  of  the  shops  will  be  closed ;  the 
fathers  will  not  go  to  their  work  that  day ;  flags  will  be  out,  and 
guns  will  be  fired,  and  bells  rung,  morning,  noon  and  night. 

Not  only  in  your  city  or  town  but  everywhere  in  our  land, 
Washington's  birthday  will  be  a  holiday. 


198  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

(Let  the  children  name  all  the  places  they  can  think  of  to  helj 
them  get  as  much  of  an  idea  of  the  widespread  observance 
of  the  day  as  is  compatible  with  their  scant  geographica 
knowledge.) 

Who  can  find  George  Washington's  picture?  Who  can  tel 
anything  about  him?  We  will  talk  about  him  to-day,  so  tha 
when  his  birthday  comes,  and  you  hear  the  guns  and  the  bells 
and  see  the  pretty  flags  flying,  you  will  know  what  it  is  all  about 

(Teacher  tell  stories  : — 

1.  George  and  his  hatchet,  exemplifying  truth. 

2.  Wishing  to  be  a  sailor,  showing  his  unselfish  love  for  hii 
mother. 

3.  The  young  surveyor,  showing  faithfulness  in  work — at  les' 
sons  and  in  surveying;  (writing  books,  account  books,  etc.,  stil 
to  be  seen.)  Speak  of  the  dif&culties  of  surveying — penetrating 
into  the  forests  alone,  sleeping  on  the  ground,  walking  many 
many  miles,  etc., — so  that  the  children  may  see  what  bravery, 
strength  and  endurance  were  demanded. 

4.  Washington  and  the  corporal.  The  rebuke  to  the  arrogan' 
little  corporal  may  not  be  appreciated,  but  Washington's  read} 
helpfulness  certainly  will.) 

What  kind  of  a  little  boy  was  George  Washington  ?     A  boy  wUc 
told  the  truth.     What  kind  of  a  big  boy?     Loving  and  obedient 
he  gave  up  what  he  wanted  to  do  to  please  his  mother.     Whal 
kind  of  a  man?     A  hard  worker,  ready  to  help,  strong,  brave, 
wise  and  true. 

(Questioning  the  children  will  help  them  deduce  the  qualities 
dislayed  in  the  stones.) 

It  was  long  ago  that  George  Washington  lived,  and  the  people 
in  this  land  were  having  a  good  deal  of  trouble.  The  king — 
who  ruled  this  country,  too,  then,  although  he  lived  over  the 
sea — was  very  unkind  and  unfair  to  the  American  people,  and 
made  them  very  unhappy. 

**  What  shall  we  do?  "  said  they.  **  We  must  find  some  way 
to  stop  all  this.  We  want  somebody  to  manage  our  soldiers  and 
not  let  the  king  treat  us  so  unfairly.  Where  shall  we  find  the 
right  kind  of  a  man?  " 

"  Here  he  is  !  Here  he  is  !  "  said  those  who  knew  Washington 


199 


200  IN   THE  child's  WORLD 

And  surety  he  was  just  the  right  kind  of  a  man,  because  he  was 
strong  and  brave  and  wise  and  true. 

So  "Washington  was  chosen  to  be  the  Commander-in-chief  of 
the  army,  and  everyone  called  him  General  Washington. 

After  ti  while,  when  the  people  were  free  from  the  king,  they 
decided  to  have  a  President. 

Do  you  know  whom  they  would  be  likely  to  choose?  Yes, 
indeed — George  Washington.  How  glad  his  mother  must  have 
been  to  see  her  son  so  useful  and  so  honored ! 

Who  is  the  president  now  ? 

But  George  Washington  was  the  first  president. 

People  called  him  **  The  Father  of  his  Country."  Do  you  see 
why  that  is  a  good  name  for  him  ? 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Washington  and  his  Country,     ------        Irving  and  Fiske 

Rules  of  Conduct,  Diary,  etc.     (Riverside  Literature  Series,  No.  24  ) 

Life  of  Washington  ("St.  Nicholas"), H.  Scudder 

Birthday  of  Washington,    --------    Rufus  Choate 

Apostrophe  to  Washington,         --.-.--£).  Webster 
Ode  to  Washington,  ---------  Lowell 

Ode  on  Washington's  Birthday,  -        -        -        -        -        '  0.  W.  Holmes 

The  Spy,  --------J'.     Fenimore  Coope^ 

The  Virginians,         ---  .....        Thackeray 

Forthc  Children. 


Little  George  Washington,     1    .      ,,  r^.^  «.  ^^  „^_  ,, 
Great  Georie  Washington,    |    '^       ^^*^  ^^^'^  ^°"'' 


Nora  A.  Sma^ 


THE  BLACKSMITH, 


To  THE  Teacher  s 

In  the  explanation  of  the  play,  "The  Charcoal  Burner's  Hut," — {Mutter- 
und  Kose- Lieder) , — Froebel  declared  his  aim  to  be  to  teach  the  child  to 
respect  the  hand;  first,  the  child's  own  hand  in  its  power  of  representa- 
tion, and  second,  to  "  also  respect  and  honor  not  only  a  man  who,  by  his 
hand,  gives  us  some  bread  and  satisfies  our  body's  need  for  food  and  other 
things,  but  a  man  who  is  active  by  the  work  of  his  hands  in  any  business, 
however  lowly,  whereby  he  not  only  keeps  ofiE  injury  and  danger  from  indi- 
viduals as  well  as  from  the  whole  community,  but  even  directly  furthers  the 
good  of  mankind." 

.  This  intent — the  intent  to  inculcate  respect  for  the  hand  and  its  wK)rk — 
underlies  all  the  trade  songs  and  games,  and  can  be  as  well  carried  out 
through  the  Blacksmith  as  through  the  Charcoal  Burner.  We  need  not 
always  cling  to  the  particular  trades  which  Froebel  chose,  provided  we  do  not 
lose  the  kernel  of  truth  which  is  enveloped  by  them. 

Before  talking  upon  the  Blacksmith,  I  pray  you  go  and  visit  a  blacksmith's 
ihop,  if  possible,  in  order  to  have  your  own  impression  fresh  and  vivid. 


THE  TALK. 


(After  singing  **  The  Cobbler  Song,"  tell  the  children  there  is 
another  man  who  makes  shoes  besides  the  cobbler.)  The  shoe- 
maker that  I  am  thinking  of  makes  shoes  -without  any  leather. 
He  uses  a  hammer  and  nails,  but  no  waxed  ends  or  pegs. 

How  many  shoes  does  your  mamma  buy  from  the  shoemaker 
when  she  gets  new  shoes  for  you  ?  Two  shoes — a  pair.  This 
other  shoemaker  has  to  make  four  shoes,  or  two  pairs,  for  each 
customer  that  comes  to  him.  Can  you  guess  what  sort  of  cus- 
tomers these  are  ?     They  must  have  four  feet,  mustn't  they  ? 

And  who  is  the  horse's  shoemaker.?  Have  any  of  the  children 
reen  to  a  blacksmith's  shop,  or  looked  in  at  the  door?     I  wish 


202  m  THE  child's  world. 

you  could  all  look  in  !  What  would  you  see  ?  (Describe  shop 
and  tools,  etc.)  Did  you  ever  notice  the  blacksmith's  apron? 
It  is  made  of  leather  and  is  often  cut  up  through  the  middle  so 
that  he  can  take  the  horse's  front  foot  between  the  two  parts. 
Sometimes  it  is  fringed  at  the  bottom. 

The  blacksmith  takes  one  of  the  new  shoes,  tries  it  on  the 
horse,  and  finds  out  just 'where  it  is  not  of  the  right  shape  or  of 
the  right  size.  Then  he  takes  the  shoe  in  his  tongs  and  holds  it 
in  the  fire,  and  with  his  other  hand  he  works  the  bellows.  Do 
you  know  what  the  bellows  are  for?  They  are  to  blow  more  air 
under  the  fire,  so  as  to  make  the  fire  very,  very  hot.  Sometimes 
the  blacksmith  covers  the  shoe  with  the  fire  Does  the  shoe 
bum?  No.  Why  not?  Because  it  is  made  of  iron.  It  was 
hard  and  black  and  cold  when  he  put  it  into  the  fire  ;  but  when 
he  takes  it  out  it  is  very  different.  The  fire  has  made  it  hot  and 
soft  and  red  ;  oh  !  so  red  and  glowing  !  It  looks  like  a  horseshoe 
made  of  fire  as  he  lays  it  on  the  anvil.  How  quickly  he  works 
now  !'  And  how  the  sparks  fly  and  the  anvil  rings  as  he  hammers 
the  red-hot  shoe,  shaping  it  to  fit  the  foot  of  the  waiting  horse. 
Do  you  know  why  he  must  work  so  quickly?  If  the  iron  cools 
it  will  be  hard  again.  If  we  should  hammer  on  this  hard,  black, 
cold  horseshoe  that  we  have,  could  we  change  its  shape? 

When  the  blacksmith  has  finished  the  shoe,  he  dips  it  into  a 
barrel  of  cold  water.  Why?  The  next  thing  is  to  nail  the  shoe 
on  the  horse's  foot.  It  seems  as  if  this  would  hurt  the  horse 
very  much,  but  the  hard  hoof  has  no  feeling  in  it,  and  if  the 
blacksmith  puts  the  nails  in  the  right  place  he  will  not  hurt  the 
horse  at  all.  If  the  blacksmith  does  not  know  how  to  put  the 
shoe  on,  or  is  not  careful,  he  may  hammer  the  nails  through  the 
horse's  hoof  so  as  to  hit  the  bone  ;  and  that  would  make  the  poor 
horse  lame.  So  the  blacksmith,  as  well  as  the  cobbler  and  the 
carpenter  and  the  cooper,  needs  to  be  a  good,  careful  worker. 

(Speak  of  the  difference  between  summer  and  winter  horse- 
shoes— the  necessity  of  calks  on  the  latter  to  keep  the  horses 
from  slipping.) 


THE  BLACKSMITH. 


203 


204 


IN   THE  CHILD* S   WORLD. 


Riddle* 

"  What  shoemaker  makes  shoes  without  leather, 
With  all  the  four  elements  put  together? 
Fire  and  water,  earth  and  air, 
Every  customer  has  two  pair." 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Life  of  Elihu  Burritt,  "The  Learned  Blacksmith." 

Industrial  Biography, 5.  Smiles 

Tubal  Cain, C.  Mackay 

The  Song  of  the  Forge  ("  Watson's  Independent  Fifth  Reader.") 

The  Village  Blacksmith,  __-.---         Longfellow 

The  Ballad  of  the  Blacksmith's  Sons  ("  St.  Nicholas," 

December,  1887),  Mary  E.  Wilkins 

Wayland  Smith  ("Kenilworth"), Scott 

Thor's  Hammer  (Norse  Studies),    -        -        -        -        -        ~     H.  W.  Mabie 

For  the  Children. 

Who  Slit  the  Blacksmith's  Apron?     ("  Wide  Awake," 

November,  1888), Prof.OtisT.  Mason 

Gutta  Percha  Willie,         ..-----     George  MacDonald 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


205 


STORffiS. 

Nahum  Prince* 

This  is  the  story  of 
Nahum  Prince,  and  the 
tears  are  in  my  eyes  now 
as  I  think  of  him.  He 
must  have  lived  a  hun- 
dred or  more  years  ago, 
and  he  died,  I  do  not 
know  when.  He  was 
lame.  Something  had 
mashed  his  foot  so  that 
he  could  hardly  walk. 
It  was  at  the  time  of 
the  fighting  with  Burgoyne,  and  General  Lincoln  was  at  the  front, 
and  was  ordering  out  every  man  from  the  New  Hampshire  grants 
and  Western  New  Hampshire.  And  all  the  regular  companies  of 
troops  had  been  marched  out.  Then  there  came  the  final  call  for 
all  who  could  go,  and  all  the  old  men  and  boys  volunteered ;  and 
there  was  not  a  boy  over  thirteen  years  of  age  in  the  village  that 
didn't  go,  except  Nahum  Prince.  *  When  they  were  getting  ready 
to  go  he  stood  up,  as  well  as  he  could,  with  an  old  Queen  Anne's 
arm  on  his  shoulder.  And  the  captain  came  along  and  saw  him, 
and  said : — 

''  Nahum,  you  here  !  " 
*' Yes,  I  am  here,"  said  Nahum. 

Then  the  captain  said:  **Go  home,  Nahum;  you  know  you 
don't  belong  here  ;  you  cannot  walk  a  mile." 

So  he  called  to  the  doctor,  and  the  doctor  said :  **  Nahum,  it's 
no  use  ;  you  must  go  home." 

Then  they  all  marched  off  without  him.  Rub-a-dub-dub,  rub- 
a-dub-dub,  went  the  drums ;  and  every  man  and  boy  of  them 
went  off  and  left  poor  Nahum  Prince  alone.  He  had  a  good 
home,  but  he  was  very  homesick  all  that  night,  and  didn't  sleep 


206  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

much ;  and  the  next  morning  he  said :  * '  I  shall  die  before  night 
if  I  stay  here  all  alone,  the  only  boy  in  town ;  I  must  do  some- 
thing." It  was  coming  autumn.  It  was  not  late,  but  he  knew 
he  must  do  something ;  so  he  went  down  and  split  old  Widow 
Corliss's  wood  for  her,  for  he  could  split  wood  though  he  could 
not  march.  He  had  not  been  splitting  wood  more  than  an  hour 
when  four  men  on  horseback  came  down  the  road  and  stopped. 
He  could  see  them  stand  and  talk.  They  all  went  off,  and  then 
one  came  back  again  and  beckoned  to  Nahum ;  and  when  he  came 
up,  the  man  on  horseback  said  : — 

**  Where  are  all  the  men  gone?  " 

*'They  have  all  gone  off  to  join  the  army,"  answered  Nahum. 

"  And  isn't  there  any  blacksmith  in  the  town?  " 

*'  No,  there  isn't  a  man  or  a  boy  in  the  town  except  me,  and  I 
wouldn't  be  here  only  I  am  so  lame  I  cannot  walk." 

*'  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  there  is  nobody  here  who  can  set 
a  shoe  ? ' ' 

**  Why,  I  can  set  a  shoe,"  said  Nahum. 

"  Then  it  is  lucky  you  are  left  behind.  Light  up  the  forge, 
and  set  the  shoe." 

And  now  comes  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  story.  Nahum 
lighted  up  the  fire,  blew  the  coals  hot,  and  set  the  shoe  on  the 
horse ;  and  the  horse  and  the  rider  went  away,  after  the  man  had 
thanked  Nahum;  and  Nahum  finished  splitting  the  widow's 
wood.  And  when  the  next  week  the  boys  came  home,  and  told 
how  Colonel  Seth  Warner  came  up  on  his  horse  just  in  time,  lead- 
ing the  First  Regiment,  and  took  the  prisoners  and  won  the  day, 
Nahum  didn't  say  anything,  but  he  knew  that  Colonel  Warner 
never  would  have  been  on  that  horse  if  he  hadn't  set  that  shoe. 
And  it  was  Nahum  Prince  and  Seth  Warner  that  won  the  splendid 
victory  which  ended  the  Battle  of  Bennington. 

Edward  Everett  Hale. 


Vulcan,  The  Mighty  Smith* 

High  above  the  fleecy  clouds  in  the  sky,  the  gods  and  goddesses 
used  to  live.  A  wide  road  stretched  across  the  heavens — you 
may  see  it  now  on  a  clear  night — and  on  each  side  of  it  stood  the 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  207 

great  palaces  of  the  gods.  Most  beautiful  of  all,  with  its  great 
portico  and  smooth  pillars,  was  the  palace  of  Vulcan  (Hephasstos) . 
It  was  built  of  shining  bronze,  which  flashed  and  gleamed  in  the 
sunlight  so  that  it  could  be  seen  for  miles  around.  Yulcan  had 
built  the  palace  for  himself,  for  he  was  a  wise  and  cunning  work- 
man with  metals. 

Many  were  the  wonderful  things  he  made  with  his  great  anvil 
and  hammer — suits  of  armor,  shields  and  spears,  silver  cups, 
golden  necklaces — all  wonderful  to  behold.  Once  he  made  two 
dogs  out  of  gold  and  silver,  and  so  lifelike  were  they  that  they 
were  set  to  guard  the  palace  of  a  king !  Perhaps  Vulcan  had 
learned  to  work  so  well  at  his  forge  because  he  could  not  go 
about  as  easily  as  the  other  gods.  He  had  a  crooked  foot  which 
made  him  limp  as  he  walked,  but  no  one  remembered  that  who 
saw  his  broad  shoulders  bending  over  his  forge,  or  his  mighty  arm 
raised  to  bring  down  the  hammer  ringing  on  the  anvil. 

One  day  as  Vulcan  was  working  away  at  his  bellows — very  warm 
and  very  grimy  from  his  toil — there  came  to  him  the  beautiful 
goddess  Thetis.  The  wife  of  Vulcan  went  out  to  meet  her,  led 
her  in,  and  placed  her  upon  a  silver-studded  seat.  Then  she 
called  Vulcan  to  come  since  Thetis  had  need  of  him.  Now  Thetis 
had  a  brave  and  noble  son — a  great  warrior,  named  Achilles — and 
she  knew  that  he  was  soon  to  risk  his  life  in  battle.  She  had  been 
greatly  troubled  on  account  of  this,  and  also  because  she  knew 
that  Achilles  had  lost  the  armor  he  usually  wore  in  the  fight.  As 
she  was  considering  what  could  be  done,  she  remembered  having 
heard  of  wonderful  armor,  so  strong  that  no  man  could  pierce  it 
— armor  fit  for  a  king — which  only  Vulcan  could  make.  Achilles 
was  not  a  king,  but  he  was  one  of  the  bravest  of  men.  Would 
Vulcan  perhaps  make  such  a  suit  of  armor  for  him?  Thetis 
hardly  dared  ask  this  of  the  mighty  smith  of  the  gods.  At  last, 
however,  she  had  come  to  his  palace,  and  now  sat  waiting  to  hear 
what  answer  he  would  give  to  her  request. 

Vulcan,  at  the  call  of  his  wife,  turned  the  bellows  from  the  fire, 
and  put  away  his  tools  in  a  silver  chest.  Then  he  washed  the 
black  dust  from  his  face  and  hands,  and,  taking  his  staff,  went 
limping  into  the  palace.  He  saw  that  Thetis  was  in  trouble,  and, 
sitting  down  beside  her,  he  asked  what  it  was.    "When  Thetis  had 


208  '  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

told  him,  Vulcan  bade  her  be  of  good  courage,  and  said  he  would 
at  once  set  to  work  to  fashion  the  armor.  He  limped  quickly- 
back  to  his  workshop,  took  his  tools  from  the  silver  chest,  turned 
the  bellows  toward  the  forge  and  threw  strong  bronze  and  gold 
and  silver  to  heat  in  the  fire.  The  bellows  blew  a  mighty  blast, 
and  the  flame  leapt  up  like  a  living  thing.  When  all  was  ready 
he  took  the  pieces  of  hot  metal  from  the  fire  with  his  tongs,  and, 
laying  them  upon  the  anviT,  shaped  and  hammered  them  with  cun- 
ning hands,  until  at  last  there  lay  before  him  a  finished  piece  of 
armor — a  breast-plate  brighter  than  the  flame  itself.  He  made, 
too,  a  hemlet,  massive  and  with  a  crest  of  gold,  and  other  pieces 
to  protect  the  warrior ;  but  the  most  beautiful  thing  was  a  great 
shining  shield,  and  truly  this  was  marvelous  to  behold.  Its  shin- 
ing surface  was  graven  with  so  many  pictures  that  when  you  had 
seen  all  of  them  it  was  as  if  you  had  looked  through  a  whole  pic- 
ture-book !  And  so  lifelike  had  Vulcan  made  everything  appear, 
that  the  men  seemed  to  walk  about, — the  sheep  seemed  to  be  crop- 
ping the  grass,  and  the  boys  and  girls  with  wreaths  round  their 
heads  seemed  to  dance  upon  the  meadow  and  to  laugh  as  they 
ran  races  with  each  other. 

When  all  was  done  Vulcan  took  the  whole,  and  laid  it  before 
the  mother  of  Achilles.  As  the  pieces  clanged  against  each  other, 
Thetis  looked  at  them  full  of  joy.  Then  Vulcan,  taking  up  the 
shield  said  :  ''  This  is  strong  to  protect  the  warrior  who  can  use  it, 
and  I  have  made  it  to  be  beautiful  also  in  the  eyes  of  men. 
For  as  I  wrought  I  remembered  those  days  long  ago  when  I  was 
a  child,  lame  and  miserable,  and  kind  Thetis  gave  me  shelter, 
care  and  love  Therefore  have  I  right  gladly  made  strong  the 
work,  and  wrought  upon  it  pictures  to  delight  the  eye." 

Vulcan  made  many  famous  things,  but  this  was  the  best  of  them 
all.  Long  afterwards  men  loved  to  talk  of  the  marvelous  shield 
of  Achilles  which  Vulcan  had  wrought  to  such  beauty,  his  hand 
strengthened  with  skill  by  the  exceeding  gratitude  of  his  heart. 

F.  H. 


THE  MINER. 


To  THE  Teacher:— 


This  seems  a  rather  remote  subject  for  many  of  our  children;  but  let  us  try 
whether  their  imagination  will  not  enable  them  to  receive  a  picture  of  the 
miner  and  his  surroundings. 

That  the  children  may  realize  how  many  things  the  miner's  work  brings  to 
them,  the  teacher  should  have  as  many  as  possible  of  the  common  objects 
which  are  made  wholly  or  in  part  of  substances  obtained  by  the  miner's  toil — 
horse  shoes,  nails,  scissors,  weaving  needles,  silver  and  copper  money,  spoons, 
jewelry,  etc. 

Also  ask  the  children  to  notice  things  at  home  which  were  once  hidden  away 
in  the  earth  and  for  which  the  miner  has  worked. 


THE  TALK. 


Do  you  remember  the  shoemaker  who  makes  shoes  without 
leather?     What  does  the  blacksmith  make  shoes  of?     Iron. 

What  is  this  made  of?  (Hold  up  a  nail  or  other  object  made 
of  iron.)  How  do  you  know  it  is  made  of  iron?  (Through  this 
question  gather  descriptive  items  from  the  children.  Iron  is 
cold,  black,  heavy,  strong ;  also  soft  and  red  when  heated,  and 
can  be  hammered  into  shape.  Demonstrate  the  ringing  sound 
which  iron  gives  when  dropped  or  struck.) 

Find  things  in  the  room  which  are  made  of  iron.  Name  iron 
things  which  you  have  seen  in  the  street ;  iron  things  at  home. 
(Let  the  children  include  steel  things,  since  steel  is  one  of  the 
three  forms  of  iron —  /.  e.,  cast  iron,  wrought  iron  and  steel.) 

Which  of  the  carpenter's  tools  are  made  of  iron? — the  black- 
smith's?— the  cooper's? — the  cobbler's? 

Could  we  have  carriages,  wagons,  locomotives,  steamboats, 
etc,  without  iron?  Is  iron  very  useful,  then?  Do  you  think  men 
would  take  much  trouble  to  get  it? 


210  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

Yes ;  they  have  to  work  very  hard,  for  iron  is  found  in  rocks, 
often  deep  down  in  the  earth. 

Men  who  work  at  getting  iron  or  gold  or  silver  or  coal  out  of 
the  earth  are  called  miners.  When  a  miner  goes  to  his  work  in 
the  morning  he  does  not  go  to  a  big  shop  as  many  workmen  do. 
His  workshop  is  a  mine,  inside  of  a  mountain.  Sometimes  he  goes 
in  at  the  side  of  the  mountain,  and  walks  or  rides  down  a  sloping 
path  till  he  gets  into  the  mine.  Sometimes  he  goes  to  an  open- 
ing in  the  ground  called  a  shaft.  Then  he  gets  into  a  big  basket 
or  cage.  Down,  down,  down  it  goes  ;  so  far  down  that  the  open- 
ing at  the  top  is  only  a  little  spot  of  light.  At  last  he  reaches  the 
bottom  and  is  in  the  mine. 

Here  the  ground  has  been  dug  away,  and  the  rock  cut  away, 
so  that  there  are  paths  in  all  directions,  and  sometimes  even 
big  rooms. 

But  how  dark  it  is  !  As  black  as  night !  How  can  the  miner 
find  his  way?  How  can  he  see  to  work?  He  cannot  carry  a 
lamp  in  his  hand,  because  he  needs  both  hands  to  work  with ; 
so  he  has  a  little  lamp  fastened  in  the  front  of  his  cap.  Isn't 
that  a  good  plan? 

He  walks  along  one  of  the  paths,  the  lamp  in  his  hat  throwing 
its  light  a  little  ahead.  When  he  gets  to  his  place  of  work  he 
takes  his  sharp  pick  and  strikes  at  the  rock,  breaking  off  piece 
after  piece  of  it. 

In  this  rock  are  bits  and  streaks  of  iron  or  gold  or  silver ;  or, 
if  it  is  a  coal  mine,  the  pieces  are  solid  coal  instead  of  rock. 

All  day  the  miner  works  in  that  strange,  dark  place,  away 
under  ground — no  sunshine,  no  light  but  the  little  twinkling 
lights  of  the  lamps  that  the  other  miners  carry.  At  night  he 
gets  into  the  big  iron  basket  again,  and  goes  up,  up,  up,  as  if  in 
an  elevator,  to  the  top  of  the  shaft  again,  and  steps  out  upon  the 
ground  and  into  the  fresh  air  once  more. 

How  much  he  must  enjoy  his  Sundays  and  holidays,  when  he 
can  see  the  sunshine,  and  the  sky,  and  all  such  beautiful  things, 
instead  of  being  in  the  black  darkness  of  the  mine  I 


THE  MINER. 


212 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

The  History  of  a  Piece  of  Coal  ("Fairyland  of  Science"),       Ambella  Buckley 
Haworth's^        ._-----  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 

That  Lass  o'  Lowrie's,       -----  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 

The  Led  Horse  Claim,       -        -        »        ^        -  Mary  Hallock  Foote 

Bret  Harte's  Stories. 

Charles  Egbert  Craddock's  Stories. 

Industrial  Biography,  -------  Samuel  Smiles 

The  Pine-Tree  Shillings, N.  Hawthorne 

For  the  Children. 

The  Blind  Brother,             -        -        -        -                 -        -  Homer  Greene 

The  Golden  Opportunity,             ------  Jean  Ingelow 

The  Pomegranate  Seeds,             ------  //.  Hawthorne 

The  Golden  Bread,              .--_---  Laboulaye 

The  Golden  Touch,             .--.._-  H.  Hawthorne 

The  Tinsmith  ("Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning  Talks"),  S.  E.  Wiltse 


STORffiS* 

Suggestions* 


The  day  after  the  talk  upon  **The  Miner,"  I  gave  to  the  chil- 
dren of  my  kindergarten  a  story  of  a  little  boy  who  visited  a 
mine  with  his  father,  in  that  way  describing  the  mine  through 


■"-v 


his  experiences.  In  the  review  of  the  week  I  drew  from  the 
children  their  own  experiences  for  a  day,  beginning  with  break- 
fast, which  required  fire  made  of  coal,  and  stove  made  of  iron: 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  213 

the  articles  used  at  table,  forks  and  spoons,  made  of  silver;  the 
dishes  washed  in  dishpans,  made  of  tin;  things  eaten,  seasoned 
with  salt;  and  all  bought  with  money — gold  and  silver. 

All  these  things  came  from  mines  and  were  dug  by  miners. 

We  sang  songs  about  other  busy  men — carpenter,  shoemaker, 
baker,  blacksmith ;  and  told  what  things  they  used  which  came 
from  mines. 

A  KiNDERGARTNER. 


The  Golden  Touch* 

Listen  to  the  famous  story 

Of  King  Midas,  who  of  old 
Gifted  was  with  wondrous  magic, 

Turning  all  he  touched  to  gold. 
Everything  he  laid  his  hands  on 

Underwent  the  same  bright  change, 
Till  familiar  things  about  him 

Had  a  golden  glitter  strange. 

Bedsteads,  tables,  chairs  and  curtains, 

Silken  fabric,  common  wood. 
By  his  passing  touch  converted 

Each  a  golden  marvel  stood! 
Ev'n  the  trees  within  the  garden 

Spread  out  shining  boughs  afar — 
And  a  merry  dancing  sunbeam 

Stiffened  to  a  golden  bar! 

Much  King  Midas  gloated  over 

All  the  dazzling  splendor  wrought; 
Well  he  loved  the  untold  riches 

That  his  touch  of  magic  brought: 
But  his  exultation  ended 

And  his  pleasure  turned  to  pain, 
For  the  trouble  that  it  caused  him 

Far  out-weighed  the  golden  gain. 

Tempting  viands  filled  the  table 

And  the  poor  king's  hunger  pressed; 

But  they  turned  to  metal  mouthfuls 
Far  too  solid  to  digest. 


214  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


So  it  was  with  all  about  him, 

Making  Midas  almost  wild — 
But  his  fury  changed  to  heartache, 

When  a  touch  transformed  his  child. 

Well  he  loved  his  little  daughter — 

Wondrous  fair  and  good  was  she; 
And  King  Midas  on  her  ringlets 

Laid  his  hand  caressingly, 
Tnoughtless  of  the  fatal  magic, 

But  its  power  was  still  the  same; 
For  a  lifeless,  golden  statue 

Instantly  the  child  became. 

Starving,  childless,  yet  more  wretched 
Grew  King  Midas  hour  by  hour. 

Till  he  loathed  the  shining  treasure, 
And  the  gift  of  baneful  power. 

All  these  glittering  possessions 
Gladly,  freely,  would  he  give, 

If  without  this  curse — though  beggars- 
He  and  his  dear  child  might  live. 

So  the  gift  was  taken  from  him 

And  the  mischief  it  had  wrought 
Quickly  righted;  and  King  Midas 

Did  not  miss  the  lesson  taught. 
But  lived  happy  ever  after. 

Cured  of  all  his  greed  for  gold 
And  to  wond'ring  children's  children 

Often  this  strange  story  told. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


CoaL 

*  *  *  *  Mother  and  Father  and  their  friends  have  gone 
to  see  a  huge  furnace.  The  furnace  is  to  make  iron.  The  iron  ore 
is  found  in  the  ground ;  but  it  cannot  be  used  until  it  has  been 
brought  to  the  furnace  and  melted,  and  all  the  dirt  taken  out,  and 
just  the  pure  iron  left.  Then  it  is  all  ready  to  be  manufactured 
into  engines,  stoves,  kettles  and  many  other  things. 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD.  215 

Coal  is  found  in  the  ground,  too.  Many  years  ago,  before  peo- 
ple came  to  life  on  the  earth,  great  trees  and  tall  grasses  and  huge 
ferns  and  all  the  beautiful  flowers  covered  the  ground.  When 
the  leaves  and  the  trees  fell,  the  water  and  the  soil  covered  them ; 
and  then  more  trees  grew  and  fell  also,  and  were  buried  under 
water  and  soil.  After  they  had  all  been  pressed  together  for  many 
thousands  of  years  the  wood  grew  very  hard,  like  rock,  and  then 
it  was  ready  for  people  to  burn.  Can  you  see  leaves  and  ferns 
and  bark  on  the  coal?  Men  go  down  into  the  ground  and  dig 
out  the  coal,  and  steam  cars  take  it  to  the  large  cities,  where  it  is 
sold  to  people  to  burn,  to  make  them  warm  and  happy  when  it  is 
cold  out  of  doors. 

Helen  Keller. 


WATER,   L 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


One  kindergartner  told  me  of  the  enthusiastic  interest  her  children  took  in 
this  subject.  She  let  them  work  out  all  the  suggestions  of  the  talk.  They  got 
snow  from  out  of  doors,  melted  it  before  the  fire,  boiled  the  water  and  con- 
densed the  steam  on  a  slate  held  over  the  teakettle  spout. 


THE  TALK* 
Uses  of  Water* 

(Let  the  children  first  tell  the  obvious  ?.nd  well-known  uses  of 
water;  /.  e.^  as  a  drink  for  all — animals  and  plants — and  as  a 
cleansing  agent.  Speak  of  the  beauty  and  healthfulness  of  clean 
skin,  clean  clothes,  etc.) 

Forms  of  Water* 

What  does  Jack  Frost  do  to  water?  Freezes  it — turns  it  into 
ice.  Can  it  be  changed  to  water  again?  How?  If  you  melt 
snow,  what  does  it  become?  What  is  snow  made  of,  then? 
Where  does  the  snow  come  from?      (See  talk  on  **  Winter  "  for 


* 


formation  of  snow.)     Jack  Frost  makes  snow  out  of  the  rain- 
drops away  up  in  the   sky,  and  makes  ice   wherever   he   finds 
water  on  the  earth. 
What  does  he  decorate  our  windows  with  sometimes?     Frost. 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  217 

Do  you  know  what  the  frost  is  made  of?  It  is  made  of  water, 
too,  for  the  window  is  wet  when  the  frost  melts,  as  you  may 
have  seen  for  yourselves. 

Do  ice  and  snow  and  frost  all  look  alike  ?  Do  they  look  like 
water?  Jack  Frost  is  quite  like  a  fairy,  isn't  he,  changing  water 
into  all  these  different  and  beautiful  forms? 

Will  ice  and  snow  and  frost  melt  if  they  are  kept  in  the  cold  ? 
What  will  melt  them?     Here  is  a  funny  little  verse  for  you : — 

"  Simple  Simon  made  a  snowball. 
And  brought  it  in  to  roast; 
He  put  it  by  the  kitchen  lire 
And  soon  the  ball  was  lost." 

What  had  happened  to  Simple  Simon's  snowball?  The  heat 
of  the  fire  had  melted  it.  What  melts  the  snow  out  of  doors  on 
a  warm,  sunny  day?  The  heat  of  the  sun.  Jack  Frost  could 
change  water  into  frost  or  snow  or  ice,  but  he  could  not  change 
them  into  water  again.  Heat  is  the  fairy  to  do  that  kind  of 
work.  And  heat  can  make  some  wonderful  fairy  changes  with 
water  itself,  too.  Have  you  ever  noticed  steam  coming  out  of 
the  teakettle  spout?  If  you  have,  you  have  seen  what  the  fairy 
Heat  has  done  to  some  of  the  water  in  the  teakettle.  Water 
usually  goes  in  drops  like  this :  (Dip  the  hand  in  water  to  show 
the  drops  which  cling  to  the  hand ;  also  shake  some  off  on  the 
floor  or  table.)  But  when  the  fairy  Heat  takes  hold  of  the  water 
drops  in  the  teakettle  they  are  changed  into  this  fine,  thin  steam 
which  floats  out  of  the  teakettle  spout. 

You  would  think  steam  to  be  very  gentle,  seeing  it  float  off  in 
those  thin  little  clouds,  but  it  is  really  so  strong  that  we  some- 
times call  it  a  giant,  and  wise  men  have  found  out  how  to  make 
it  do  a  great  deal  of  work.  They  shut  this  giant  '*  Steam  "  up, 
leaving  him  only  a  little  place  through  which  to  escape,  and  then 
they  put  the  machinery  right  where  he  will  push  against  one 
little  part  of  it  when  he  rushes  out,  and  thus  set  all  the  machin- 
ery in  motion.  That  is  the  way  giant  Steam  is  made  to  turn 
the  wheels  of  the  steamboats  and  locomotives  and  mills,  and 
to  do  all  kinds  of  work. 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  it  is  the  fairy  Heat  who  changes 


218  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

water  into  steam,  for  the  same  kind  of  fairy  work  is  going  on 
out  of  doors,  too.  Wherever  the  warm  little  sanbeams  find 
water,  the  fairy  Heat  will  work  away  at  some  of  it,  changing  it 
and  making  it  so  fine  and  thin  that  we  often  cannot  see  it  at  all 
as  it  floats  up  through  the  air. 

In  the  sky,  however,  it  sometimes  gathers  together  into  one 
mass,  and  then  we  call  i^  a  cloud ;  and  the  cloud  lies  there  in  the 
sky  until  North  Wind  or  East  Wind  comes  that  way.  And  then 
what  happens?  Why,  the  fairy  Heat  has  to  let  go,  and  the  cloud 
of  water  dust  changes  into  drops  of  water;  and  the  drops  of 
water  are  so  heavy  that  they  immediately  fall  down  to  the  earth 
again.  And  when  that  happens,  the  little  kindergarten  children 
sing  some  of  their  pretty  songs  about  the  rain. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Forms  of  Water,  --_--.._.      Tyndall 

Fairyland  of  Science  (Chaps.  I,  IV,  V),  -        -        _        Arabella  Buckley 

Hymn  before  Sunrise  in  the  Vale  of  Chamouni,        -        -        _        _  Coleridge 

Clear  and  Cool, Charles  Kingsley 

Ode  on  Introduction  of  Cochituate  Water  into  Boston,       .         -         -       Lowell 

The  Old  Oaken  Bucket, -      Samuel  Woodworth 

The  Steamboat, 0.  W.  Holmes 

The  Song  of  Steam, G.  W.  Cutter 

Robin's  Rain  Song, '' St.  Nicholas;' April,  1 887 

For  the  Children* 

Tom,  the  Water  Baby  ("Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning 

Talks"),        -        - -      S.  E.  Wiltse 

Th«  Crow  and  the  Pitcher  ("  Kindergarten  Stories  and 

Morning  Talks ")»  '" S.  E.  Wiltse 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  219 


STORES- 

To  Whom  Shall  "Wc  Give  Thanks. 

A  little  boy  had  sought  the  pump 

From  whence  the  sparkling  water  burst, 

And  drank  with  eager  joy  the  draught 
That  kindly  quenched  his  raging  thirst. 

Then  gracefully  he  touched  his  cap, 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Pump,"  he  said, 
"  For  this  nice  drink  you've  given  me." 
(This  little  boy  had  been  well-bred.) 

Then  said  the  Pump:   "  My  little  man. 

You're  welcome  to  what  I  have  done* 
But  I  am  not  the  one  to  thank, 
I  only  help  the  water  run." 
"  Oh!  then,"  the  little  fellow  said, 

(Polite  he  always  meant  to  be), 

"  Cold  Water,  please  accept  my  thanks, 

You  have  been  very  kind  to  me." 

«  Ah!  "  said  Cold  Water,  "  don't  thank  mel 

For  up  the  hillside  lives  a  spring 
That  sends  me  forth  with  generous  hand 

To  gladden  every  living  thing." 
"  I'll  thank  the  spring,  then,"  said  the  boy, 

And  gracefully  he  bowed  his  head. 
"  Oh!  don't  thank  me,  my  little  man," 

The  spring  with  silvery  accent  said. 

"  Oh!   don't  thank  me,  for  what  am  I 
Without  the  dews  and  summer  rain.' 
Without  their  aid  I  ne'er  could  quench 
Your  thirst,  my  little  boy,  again." 
«  Oh,  well,  then,"  said  the  little  boy, 

"  I'll  gladly  thank  the  rain  and  dew." 

"  Pray  don't  thank  us!     Without  the  sun 

We  could  not  fill  one  cup  for  you." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Sun,  ten  thousand  thanks 
For  all  that  you  have  done  for  me." 
"  Stop,"  said  the  Sun  with  blushing  face, 
"  My  little  fellow,  don't  thank  me. 


220  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

'Twas  from  the  ocean's  mighty  stores 
I  drew  the  draught  I  gave  to  thee." 
"  0  Ocean,  thanks,"  then  said  the  boy. 
I i  echoed  back:   "  No  thanks  to  me!" 

"  Not  unto  me,  but  unto  him 

Who  formed  the  depths  in  which  I  lie, 
Go  give  thy  thanks,  my  little  boy, — 

To  him  who  will  thy  wants  supply." 
The  boy  took  off  his  cap  and  said 
In  tones  so  gentle  and  subdued, 
"  O  God,  I  thank  thee  for  thy  gift. 
Thou  art  the  Giver  of  all  good." 


Unknown. 


Snowflakcs^ 

(^With  suggestions  for  a  stick  lesson.^ 

Once  upon  a  time,  a  little  Raindrop  thought  it  had  played  long 
snough  up  in  the  clouds,  and  said  it  would  go  down  to  the  earth 
and  see  what  good  it  could  do.     So  it  started. 

While  it  was  falling  it  had  to  pass  through  a  cloud  that  was 
very  cold,  and  this  funny  little  Raindrop,  instead  of  shrinking 
together  as  we  do  when  we  are  cold,  stretched  out  and  stretched 
out  till  it  was  not  round  any  more,  but  was  long  and  thin  and 
hard  like  a  needle :  and  that  is  just  what  it  was — a  little  ice 
needle. 

As  it  went  on  falling,  it  met  another  just  like  itself. 

The  second  one  said:  **  Little  Ice  Needle,  where  are  you 
going?" 

**  Down  to  the  earth  to  see  what  good  I  can  do.'* 

**I'll  go,  too ;  "  so  the  second  ice  needle  joined  the  first  (put 
the  two  sticks  together  at  angle  of  sixty  degrees) ,  and  they  fell 
together. 

Pretty  soon  they  met  a  third,  and  it  said :  "  Little  Ice  Needles, 
where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Down  to  the  earth  to  see  what  good  we  can  do." 

**Then  I'll  go,  too."  So  it  joined  the  others  and  they  fell 
together.     (Add  a  third  stick  at  the  same  angle,  and  so  on  till  a 


221 


222  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

six-pointed  snow-star  is  made.)  Then  they  met  another  and 
another  and  another,  who  all  joined  them.  Then  there  were 
six  little  ice  needles  falling  together,  and  they  had  a  new  name 
— **  Snowfiake." 

Little  Snowflake  met  others  who  asked  it  where  it  was  going. 

**Down  to  the  ground  to  see  what  good  I  can  do." 

**  We'll  go,  too.     Bu^  where  shall  we  go?  " 

**I  know,"  said  one  of  the  little  ice  needles.  **  Last  summer, 
when  I  was  warm  and  round,  I  saw  a  place  where  a  poor  little 
sick  boy  had  planned  some  seeds  which  a  kind  lady  gave  him, 
and  I  think  it  would  be  so  nice  to  fall  on  that  place  and  keep  it 
warm,  so  that  the  seeds  in  the  ground  may  not  freeze,  and  the 
little  boy  may  have  some  flowers  next  summer," 

**  Oh !  so  we  will,"  said  they  all,  and  they  fell  faster  and 
faster  that  they  might  get  there  sooner.  Other  snowflakes  saw 
them  and  went  too,  and  the  ground  was  covered  more  and  more 
thickly  with  snow  till  there  was  enough  to  keep  the  seeds  from 
freezing  all  winter. 

When  the  weather  began  to  be  warmer,  the  snow  turned  into 
water  and  ran  down  into  the  earth,  and  the  seeds  drank  it  and 
swelled  and  swelled  until,  by  and  by,  little  leaves  came  out  above 
ground,  from  each  seed.  Then  other  leaves  grew,  and,  when 
summer  came,  little  Frank  had  his  flowers  again,  and  all  because 
one  little  raindrop  wanted  to  do  some  good  in  the  world. 

Josephine  Jarvis. 

Cobden,  III. 


The  Immortal  Fountain^ 

In  ancient  times  two  little  princesses  lived  in  Scotland,  one  of 
whom  was  extremely  beautiful,  and  the  other  dwarfish,  dark- 
colored  and  deformed.     The  sisters  did  not  live  happily  together. 

Marion  hated  Rose  because  she  was  handsome  and  everybody 
praised  her.  She  scowled  when  anybody  told  her  how  pretty  her 
little  sister  Rose  was.  No  wonder  all  the  family  and  all  the 
neighbors  disliked  Marion,  and  no  wonder  her  face  grew  uglier 
and  uglier  every  day. 


IN   THE  CHILD *S  WORLD.  223 

One  summer  noon,  when  all  was  still  save  the  faint  twittering 
of  the  birds  and  lazy  hum  of  the  insects,  Marion  entered  a  deep 
grotto.  She  sat  down  on  a  bank  of  moss  ;  the  air  around  her  was 
as  fragrant  as  if  it  came  from  a  bed  of  violets  ;  and  with  the  sound 
of  far-off  music  dying  on  her  ear,  she  fell  into  a  gentle  slumber. 

When  she  awoke,  a  figure  of  real  loveliness  stood  before  her,  and 
thus  she  sang : — 

The  Fairy  Queen 
Hath  rarely  seen 
Creature  of  earthly  mould 
Within  her  door, 
On  pearly  floor, 
Inlaid  with  shining  gold. 
Mortal,  all  thou  seest  is  fair; 
Quick  thy  purposes  declare. 

As  she  concluded,  the  song  was  taken  up  and  thrice  repeated 
by  a  multitude  of  soft  voices  in  the  distance.  It  seemed  as  if  birds 
and  insects  joined  in  the  chorus.  All  these  delightful  sounds 
soon  died  away  and  the  Queen  of  the  Fairies  stood  patiently  await- 
ing Marion's  answer.  Courtesying  low,  and  with  a  trembling 
voice,  the  little  maiden  said  : — 

**  Will  it  please  your  Majesty  to  make  me  as  handsome  as  my 
sister  Rose?  " 

"  I  will  grant  your  request,"  said  she,  **  if  you  will  promise  to 
fulfill  all  the  conditions  I  propose." 

Marion  eagerly  promised  that  she  would. 

*'  Go  home,  now,"  said  the  Queen; — **  for  one  week  speak  no 
ungentle  word  to  your  sister ;  at  the  end  of  that  time,  come  again 
to  the  grotto." 

The  end  of  the  week  arrived,  and  Marion  had  faithfully  kept 
her  promise.     Again  she  went  to  the*  grotto. 

**  Mortal,  hast  thou  fulfilled  thy  promise?  "  asked  the  Queen. 

"1  have,"  said  Marion. 

''Then  follow  me." 

Marion  did  as  she  was  directed,  and  away  they  went  over  beds 
of  violets  and  mignonette.  The  birds  warbled  above  their  heads, 
butterflies  cooled  the  air,  and  the  gurgling  of  many  fountains 
came  with  .a  refreshing  sound.     Presently  they  came  to  the  hill. 


224  IN  THE  CHILD* S  WORLD. 

on  the  top  of  which  was  the  Immortal  Fountain.  Its  foot  was 
surrounded  by  a  band  of  fairies  clothed  in  green  gossamer. 

The  Queen  waved  her  wand  over  them,  and  immediately  they 
stretched  their  thin  wings  and  flew  away.  The  hill  was  steep, 
and  far,  far  up  they  went ;  and  the  air  became  more  fragrant  and 
more  distinctly  they  heard  the  sound  of  waters  falling  in  music. 
At  length  they  were  stopped  by  a  band  of  fairies  clothed  in  blue, 
with  their  silver  wands  crossed. 

'*Here,"  said  the  Queen,  **  our  journey  must  end.  You  can  go 
no  farther  until  you  have  fulfilled  the  orders  I  shall  give  you.  Go 
home  now ;  for  one  month  do  by  your  sister,  in  all  respects,  as  you 
would  wish  her  to  do  by  you,  were  you  Rose  and  she  Marion." 

Marion  promised  and  departed.  She  found  the  task  harder 
than  the  first  had  been.  When  Rose  asked  for  any  of  her  play- 
things, she  found  it  difficult  to  give  them'  gently  and  affectionately, 
instead  of  pushing  them  along. 

When  Rose  talked  to  her,  she  wanted  to  go  away  in  silence  ;  and 
when  a  mirror  was  found  in  her  sister's  room,  broken  in  a  thou- 
sand pieces,  she  felt  sorely  tempted  to  conceal  that  she  did  the 
mischief.  But  she  was  so  anxious  to  be  made  beautiful,  that  she 
did  as  she  would  be  done  by.  All  the  household  remarked  how 
Marion  had  changed.  **  I  love  her  dearly,"  said  Rose,  **  she  is 
so  good  and  amiable." 

**  So  do  I,"  said  a  dozen  voices. 

Marion  blushed  deeply,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure. 
**  How  pleasant  it  is  to  be  loved  !  "  thought  she. 

At  the  end  of  the  month  she  went  to  the  grotto  again.  The 
fairies  in  blue  lowered  their  silver  wands  and  flew  away.  They 
traveled  on ;  the  path  grew  steeper  and  steeper ;  but  the  fragance 
of  the  atmosphere  was  redoubled,  and  more  distinctly  came  the 
sound  of  the  waters  falling  in  mus  c.  Their  course  was  stayed  by 
a  troop  in  rainbow  robes,  and  silver  wands  tipped  with  gold. 

**  Hc^re  we  must  pause,"  said  the  Queen ;  *'  this  boundary  you 
cannot  yet  pass." 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  the  impatient  Marion. 

**  Because  they  must  be  very  pure  who  pass  the  rainbow  fairies," 
replied  the  Queen.  **  They  must  be  pure  in  thought  as  well  as  in 
action.     Return  home ;  for  three  months  never  indulge   in  an 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  225 

envious  or  wicked  thought.     You  shall  then  have  a  sight  of  the 
Immortal  Fountain." 

Marion  was  sad  at  heart,  for  she  knew  how  many  envious 
thoughts  and  wrong  wishes  she  had  suffered  to  gain  power  over  her. 
When  she  again  visited  the  Palace  of  Beauty,  the  Queen  smiled 
and  then  led  her  away  to  the  Immortal  Fountain.  The  silver 
specks  on  the  wings  of  the  rainbow  fairies  shone  bright  as  she 
approached  them,  and  they  lowered  their  wands,  and  sang  as  they 
flew  away : — 

Mortal,  pass  on, 

Till  the  goal  is  won, — 

For  such,  I  ween, 

Is  the  will  of  the  Queen, — 

Pass  on !   Pass  on ! 

And  now  every  footstep  was  on  flowers  that  yielded  beneath 
their  feet.  The  delicious  fragrance  could  almost  be  felt,  and 
loud,  clear  and  liquid  came  the  sound  of  the  waters  as  they  fell 
in  music.  And  now  the  cascade  is  seen  leaping  and  sparkling 
over  crystal  rocks,  and  deep  and  silent  below  the  foam  is  the 
Immortal  Fountain.  Its  amber-colored  waves  flow  over  a  golden 
bed ;  and  as  the  fairies  bathe  in  it,  the  diamonds  on  their  hair 
glance  like  sunbeams  on  the  waters. 

**0h,  let  me  bathe  in  the  fountain!  "  cried  Marion,  clasping 
her  hands  in  delight. 

**Not  yet,"  said  the  Queen.  **Go  home;  for  another  year 
drive  away  all  evil  feelings,  not  for  the  sake  of  bathing  in  this 
Fountain,  but  because  goodness  is  lovely  and  desirable  for  its 
own  sake." 

This  was  the  hardest  task  of  all.  For  she  had  been  willing  to 
be  good,  not  because  it  was  right  to  be  good,  but  she  wished  to 
be  beautiful.  Three  times  she  sought  the  grotto,  and  three 
times  she  left  it  in  tears.  The  fourth  time  she  prevailed.  The 
purple  fairies  that  guarded  the  brink  of  the  fountain  lowered  their 
wands,  singing : — 

Thou  hast  scaled  the  mountain. 

Go,  bathe  in  the  Fountain; 

Rise,  fair  to  the  sight 

As  an  angel  of  light ; 

Go,  bathe  in  the  Fountain. 


226  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

Marion  was  about  to  plunge  in,  but  the  Queen  touched  her, 
saying,  **Look  in  the  mirror  of  waters.  Art  thou  not  already 
as  beautiful  as  heart  could  wish  ?  " 

Marion  looked  at  herself,  and  saw  that  her  eyes  sparkled  with 
a  new  lustre,  that  a  bright  color  shone  through  her  cheeks,  and 
dimples  played  sweetly  about  her  mouth. 

**I  have  not  touched  the  Immortal  Fountain,"  said  she,  turn- 
ing in  surprise  to  the  Queen. 

**True,"  replied  the  Queen,"  but  its  waters  have  been  within 
your  soul.  Know  that  a  pure  heart  and  a  clear  conscience  are 
the  only  immortal  fountains  of  beauty." 

Ever  after  the  sisters  lived  happily  together.  It  was  the 
remark  of  every  one,  **  How  handsome  Marion  had  grown  !  The 
ugly  scowl  has  gone  from  her  face,  and  the  light  of  her  eye  is  so 
mild  and  pleasant,  and  her  mouth  looks  so  smiling  and  good 
natured  that,  to  my  taste,  I  declare,  she  is  as  handsome  as  Rose." 

L.  Maria  Child. 


WATER,  IL 


To  THE  Teacher:  — 

(Review  briefly  the  effects  of  cold  and  heat  upon  water,  especially  the  lifting 
up  of  vapor  and  the  formation  of  clouds  and  rain. ) 


THE  TALK. 


When  the  rain  falls,  what  becomes  of  it  ?  The  little  drops  soak 
into  the  ground  and  the  thirsty  roots  drink  with  delight  all  that 
they  need.  But  they  do  not  use  it  all.  The  rest  of  the  water 
runs  along  in  the  ground  till  by  and  by  it  finds  a  chance  to  bubble 
out  somewhere.  I  wonder  whether  it  is  as  glad  to  get  out  of  the 
dark  earth  and  into  the  air  and  sunshine  again  as  the  miner  is? 
It  sparkles  as  if  it  were  ! 

The  first  chance  it  gets  to  run  down  hill,  away  it  skips,  and 
soon  finds  another  dancing,  sparkling  little  stream  like  itself  and 
perhaps  another  and  another.  **We  are  so  little,  each  alone," 
they  say  :  **  let  us  all  go  together." 

So  the  tiny  streams  of  water  weave  themselves  into  one,  and 
people  say  :  **  What  a  pretty  brook  !  "  (Sing  the  Froebel  song  of 
**The  Brook"  and  talk  of  the  bridge.  It  might  be  well  to  see 
whether  the  children  have  kept  the  sequence  thus  far:  Rain, 
spring,  streamlet,  brook.) 

The  pretty  brook  flows  along — dancing,  leaping,  sparkling, 
laughing  and  even  singing.  I  have  heard  it  sing  many  a  time  ! 
Let  us  play  we  are  sitting  by  the  side  of  this  little  singing  brook 
and  watching  its  visitors.  (Try  to  have  the  children  see  the  little 
birds  splashing  in  the  brook  and  sipping  its  waters,  the  flowers 
and  grasses  leaning  over  its  brink,  the  silvery  flshes  flashing 
through  its  ripples,  the  child  sailing  his  toy  boat  in  the  safe  shal- 
lowness of  one  of  its  pools,  the  solemn  frog  plunging  clumsily  out 


228  IN   THE   CHILD'S   WORLD. 

of  sight  if  it  hears  us,  the  cows  and  the  big  horse  walking  into 
the  brook  to  get  a  refreshing  drink.  The  children's  imagination 
might  be  quickened  by  letting  them  personate  the  birds,  cows, 
horses,  etc.,  which  come  to  the  brook  to  drink.)  The  little  brook 
gives  freely  to  all  and  ripples  joyously  along.  Whenever  it  finds 
another  brook  it  calls  out,  **  Are  you  going  my  way?  We  are  so 
small,  each  alone — let  us  go  together;  "  and  so,  just  as  the  tiny 
streamlets  wove  themselves  together  to  make  the  brook,  the  brooks 
flow  together  into  one  and  make  a  river.  (Rain,  spring,  stream- 
lets, brooks,  river.  Help  the  children  to  picture  now  a  river  with 
its  increased  size  and  force  ;  the  rocky  places  over  which  it  leaps  ; 
the  life  in  and  about  it,  the  large  boats,  the  logs  floating  down 
from  the  forest,  the  bridges  and  the  mills  grinding  corn,  sawing 
wood,  etc.,  which  its  flowing  water  works.) 

The  river  is  a  great  worker  !  All  along  its  way  it  finds  some- 
thing to  do.  Sometimes,  indeed,  the  river  spreads  itself  out  into 
a  pond  or  lak-e  and  lies  there  more  quietly,  but  soon  it  rushes  on 
again  and  at  last  it  reaches  the  ocean — the  great  meeting  place 
of  all  the  waters. 

Have  any  of  you  been  to  the  seashore  and  seen  the  ocean? 
Have  you  ever  watched  its  little  curling  waves  creeping  up  to  the 
shore  and  then  itinning  back  into  the  big  sea  as  fast  as  they  could  r 
Or  the  great,  high  waves,  rolling  grandly  up  only  to  hurry  bact 
again  in  the  same  way?  The  water  of  the  river  is  now  part  of  the 
ocean  and  races  up  to  the  shore  and  back  again  when  its  turn 
comes.      (Rain,  spring,  stream,  brook,  river,  ocean.) 

What  a  long  journey  the  water  has  taken  !  But  it  is  going  to 
travel  farther  yet ;  for  the  bright,  hot  sun  sends  his  heat  fairies 
down,  and  as  soon  as  they  have  made  some  of  the  water  from  the 
top  of  the  waves  fine  enough  and  light  enough,  up  it  goes  to  the 
sky  again  and  is  made  into  clouds.  And  then  what  does  it  do  but 
turn  into  drops  of  rain  just  as  before,  and  start  on  the  same  long 
journey  again ! 


VATER  AT  WORK* 


229 


230 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Forms  of  Water,       - Tyndall 

Fairyland  of  Science,        --        - Buckley 

"The  Bridge,"         -------        -  Froeber s  Explanation 

Undine,  -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -     De  la  Motte  Fouque 

The  Fountain,  -        -.-        -        -        -         -        -        '        -        Lowell 

The  Brook,       -----------   Tennyson 

The  Marshes  of  Glynn,     ---- Lanier 

Mad  River,      "1  ,     ^  u 

SongoRiver,  I         -        -        - Longfellow 

Song  of  the  Chattahoochee,       -        - -       Lanier 

To  Seneca  Lake,      -         -         -        -        -         -         -        -        -    J.  G.  Perciial 

How  the  Water  comes  down  at  Lodore,     ------      Southey 

The  Sea,  ---------  Barry  Cornwall 

Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage  (Canto  IV,  178), Byron 

The  Coral  Grove,      - J.  G.  Percival 

The  Merman,  ----__-_--   Tennyson 

The  Mermaid,  - -   Tennyson 

The  Forsaken  Merman,    -------  Matthew  Arnold 

The  Tides, W.  C.  Bryant 

Break,  break,  break,  1  _ 

A  Farewell,  |  ^^««>'^^« 

For  the  Children* 

Aqua  ("The  Story  Hour"), Kate  D.  Wiggin 


STORED 
Stony  and  Rocky. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  great  family  of  limestones,  all 
piled  up  on  the  bank  of  a  river.  They  had  been  so  close  together 
that  one  could  not  be  told  from  another.  They  had  finished  the 
work  they  had  to  do  together.  The  time  had  now  come  for  them 
to  separate  and  do  another  kind  of  work. 

Away  up  on  top,  Stony  and  Rocky,  two  lively  boys  of  this  family, 
could  look  down  into  the  river.  There  they  saw  some  of  their 
brothers  and  sisters  who  long  ago  had  left  their  home,  and  whose 
sharp  corners  and  edges  had  been  worn  away  by  the  water,  which 
rolled  them  over  and  over,  rubbing  them  against  each  other  until 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  231 

all  the  rough  edges  were  gone,  and  they  were  smooth  and  round. 
These  little  pebbles  kept  calling  to  Stony  and  Rocky  up  on  the 
cliffs,  to  come  down.  They  wanted  to  go  very  much,  but  they 
could  not  break  off  from  their  .old  home  without  some  help.  As 
they  sat  up  there  wishing  very  much  to  go  into  the  river  below, 
Jack  Frost  went  rushing  by  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  Rocky 
called  to  this  jolly  little  fellow  and  asked  if  he  could  not  help 
them.  Jack  said,  '*0f  course  I  can;  what  help  do  you  need?  " 
**  Oh  !  "  said  Stony,  **  we  are  fastened  here  so  tight  that  we  can't 
get  away.  Can't  you  set  us  free?  Our  brothers  and  sisters  are 
having  a  good  time  down  in  the  water,  and  we  want  to  go  there." 
'*  All  right,"  said  Jack,  "  you  shall  go,  and  I  will  help  you."  So 
he  set  to  work,  and  marked  off  with  his  ice  pencil  a  cold,  white 
line.  **  The  sunshine  will  soon  be  along,"  he  said,  **  and  will  help 
you,  too."  Then  away  he  flew.  Sure  enough,  the  sunshine  did 
come,  and  set  to  work  to  thaw  out  Jack  Frost's  ice  lines,  and  make 
the  rocks  warm.  The  wind  blew  on  them,  and  the  tiny  raindrops 
came  to  help,  too.  All  worked  very  hard  together,  and  the  rocks 
felt  themselves  loosening  from  their  old  homes.  At  last,  one 
night,  Jack  Frost  brought  his  ice  chisel  and  gave  them  a  hard 
knock,  and  they  kept  getting  looser  and  looser,  until — plunge  ! ! ! — 
they  went  headlong  into  the  water. 

Oh,  dear,  how  frightened  they  were  !  The  water  was  so  cold 
and  dark,  and  rushed  around  them  so  rapidly,  that  they  were 
shaken  up  and  trembled  with  fear.  How  they  wished  they  had 
never  left  their  quiet  home  to  come  down  here  in  this  busy  rush. 

In  a  little  while  they  had  the  courage  to  look  up,  and  there 
they  saw  the  tiny  twinkle rs  up  in  the  sky,  looking  down  at  them 
as  they  had  always  done,  and  the  moon  sending  them  light  and 
smiling  upon  them  as  she  had  done  ever  since  they  could  remem- 
ber. Their  little  pebble  brothers  and  sisters  comforted  them,  and 
they  were  soon  better  contented. 

The  next  day.  Stony  and  Rocky  began  to  run  and  play  in  the 
water,  like  the  pebbles.  They  had  rather  a  hard  time  of  it  at  first, 
because  they  never  had  been  with  such  busy  people  before,  and 
they  had  such  sharp  corners  that  they  were  always  getting  badly 
hurt. 

They  soon  grew  to  love  the  soft,  singing  water,  and  to  like  the 


232  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

busy  life,  even  with  the  sharp  knocks — much  better  than  the  old 
life  on  the  cliffs. 

After  a  long,  long  time,  more  years  than  any  of  us  have  lived, 
Rocky  and  Stony  were  worn  down  into  round,  smooth  pebbles, 
and  others  from  their  old  home  were  falling  down  into  the  water. 

Their  work  here,  in  the  water,  had  made  them  ready  for  another 
kind  of  work.  One  day,  a  man  came  down  to  the  river  with  a 
wheelbarrow  and  gathered  it  full  of  pebbles  out  of  the  river.  The 
pebbles  wondered  what  work  they  had  to  do  now. 

The  man  carried  them  away  off  into  the  great  city,  and  made 
with  them  some  beautiful  walks  in  a  large  park  where  a  great 
many  little  children  come  to  play,  as  soon  as  the  spring  comes 
every  year.  They  love  to  play  with  the  pebbles,  and  the  pebbles 
like  to  take  care  of  their  tiny  feet  and  keep  them  out  of  the  mud. 

This  is  the  last  home  that  Stony  and  Rocky  ever  had  and  they 
lived  there  ever  after. 

Annie  E.  Allen. 

The  Kindergarten  Magazine. 


The  Little  Hero  of  Haarlem* 

At  an  early  period  in  the  history  of  Holland,  a  boy,  who  is 
the  hero  of  the  following  narrative,  was  born  in  Haarlem,  a  town 
remarkable  for  its  variety  of  fortune  in  war,  but  happily  still 
more  so  for  its  manufactures  and  inventions  in  peace.  His 
father  was  a  sluicer — that  is,  one  whose  employment  it  was  to 
open  and  shut  the  sluices,  or  large  oak  gates,  which,  placed  at 
certain  regular  distances,  close  the  entrances  of  the  canals,  and 
secure  Holland  from  the  danger  to  which  it  seems  exposed — of 
finding  itself  under  water,  rather  than  above  it. 

When  water  is  wanted,  the  sluicer  raises  the  sluices  more  or 
less,  as  required,  and  closes  them  again  carefully  at  night ;  other- 
wise the  water  would  flow  into  the  canals,  overflow  them,  and 
inundate  the  whole  country.  Even  the  little  children  in  Holland 
are  fully  aware  of  the  importance  of  a  punctual  discharge  of  the 
sluicer' s  duties. 

The  boy  was  about  eight  years  old  when,  one  day,  he  asked 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  233 

permission  to  take  some  cakes  to  a  poor  blind  man,  who  lived 
at  the  other  side  of  the  dike.  His  father  gave  him  leave,  but 
charged  him  not  to  say  too  late.  The  child  promised,  and  set 
off  on  his  little  journey.  The  blind  man  thankfully  partook  of 
his  young  friend's  cakes,  and  the  boy,  mindful  of  his  father's 
orders,  did  not  -wait,  as  usual,  to  hear  one  of  the  old  man's 
stories,  but  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  him  eat  one  muffin,  took  leave 
of  him  to  return  home. 

As  he  went  along  by  the  canals,  then  quite  full,  for  it  was 
in  October  and  the  autumn  rains  had  swelled  the  waters,  the 
boy  now  stopped  to  pull  the  little  blue  flowers  which  his  mother 
loved  so  well,  now,  in  childish  gayety,  hummed  some  merry  song. 

The  road  gradually  became  more  solitary,  and  soon  neither 
the  joyous  shout  of  the  villager,  returning  to  his  cottage  home, 
nor  the  rough  voice  of  the  carter,  grumbling  at  his  lazy  horses 
was  any  longer  to  be  heard.  The  little  fellow  now  perceived 
that  the  blue  of  the  flowers  in  his  hand  was  scarcely  distinguish- 
able from  the  green  of  the  surrounding  herbage,  and  he  looked 
up  in  some  dismay.  The  night  was  falling;  not,  however,  a 
dark  winter  night,  but  one  of  those  beautiful,  clear,  moonlight 
nights,  in  which  every  object  is  perceptible,  though  not  as  dis- 
tinctly as  by  day. 

The  child  thought  of  his  father,  of  his  injunction,  and  was 
preparing  to  quit  the  ravine  in  which  he  was  almost  buried,  and 
to  regain  the  beach,  when  suddenly  a  slight  noise,  like  the  trick- 
ling of  water  upon  pebbles,  attracted  his  attention.  He  was 
near  one  of  the  large  sluices,  and  he  now  carefully  examined  it, 
and  soon  discovered  a  hole  in  the  wood,  through  which  the  water 
was  flowing. 

With  the  instant  perception  which  every  child  in  Holland 
would  have  had,  the  boy  saw  that  the  water  must  soon  enlarge 
the  hole,  through  which  it  was  now  only  dropping,  and  that 
utter  and  general  ruin  would  be  the  consequence  of  the  inunda- 
tion of  the  country  that  must  follow. 

To  see,  to  throw  away  the  flowers,  to  climb  from  stone  to 
stone  till  he  reached  the  hole,  and  put  his  finger  into  it,  was  the 
work  of  a  moment,  and,  to  his  delight,  he  found  that  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  stopping  the  flow  of  the  water. 


234  IN  THE  child's  world. 

This  was  all  very  well  for  a  little  while,  and  the  child 
thought  only  of  the  success  of  his  device.  But  the  night  was 
closing  in,  and  with  the  night  came  the  cold.  The  little  boy 
looked  around  in  vain.  No  one  came.  He  shouted — he  called 
loudly — no  one  answered. 

He  resolved  to  stay  there  all  night,  but,  alas,  the  cold  was 
becoming  every  moment  more  biting,  and  the  poor  finger  fixed 
in  the  hole  began  to  feel  benumbed,  and  the  numbness  soon  ex- 
tended to  the  hand,  and  thence  throughout  the  whole  arm.  The 
pain  became  still  greater,  still  harder  to  bear,  but  still  the  boy 
moved  not. 

Tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  as  he  thought  of  his  father, 
of  his  mother,  of  his  little  bed  where  he  might  now  be  sleeping 
so  soundly,  but  still  the  little  fellow  stirred  not,  for  he  knew 
that  did  he  remove  the  small,  slender  finger  which  he  had 
opposed  to  the  escape  of  the  water,  not  only  would  he  himself 
be  drowned,  but  his  father,  his  brothers,  his  neighbors — nay,  the 
whole  village. 

We  know  not  what  faltering  of  purpose,  what  momentary 
failures  of  courage  there  might  have  been  during  that  long  and 
terrible  night ;  but  certain  it  is  that  at  daybreak  he  was  found  in 
the  same  painful  position  by  a  clergyman  returning  from  an 
attendance  on  a  death  bed,  who,  as  he  advanced,  thought  he 
heard  groans,  and  bending  over  the  dike,  discovered  a  child 
seated  on  a  stone,  writhing  from  pain,  and  with  pale  face  and 
tearful  eyes. 

"  In  the  name  of  wonder,  boy,"  he  exclaimed,  *'  what  are  you 
doing  there?  " 

*'I  am  hindering  the  water  from  running  out,"  was  the  an- 
swer, in  perfect  simplicity,  of  the  child  who,  during  that  whole 
night,  had  been  evincing  such  heroic  fortitude  and  undaunted 
courage. 

The  Muse  of  history,  too  often  blind  to  true  glory,  has  handed 
down  to  posterity  many  a  warrior,  the  destroyer  of  thousands  of 
his  fellow  men — she  has  left  us  in  ignorance  of  this  real  little  hero 
of  Haarlem. 

Sharpens  Magazine, 


IN   THE   CHILD'S   WORLD.  235 

Do  What  You  Can^ 

There  was  once  a  farmer  -who  had  a  large  field  of  corn ;  he 
ploughed  it  and  planted  the  corn,  and  harrowed  and  weeded  it 
with  great  care,  and  on  his  field  he  depended  for  the  chief  sup- 
port of  his  family.  But  after  he  had  worked  hard,  he  saw  the 
corn  begin  to  wither  and  droop  for  rain,  and  he  began  to  have  fears 
for  his  crop.  He  felt  very  sad,  and  went  over  every  day  to  look 
at  his  corn,  and  see  if  there  was  any  hope  of  rain. 

One  day  as  he  stood  looking  at  the  sky,  and  almost  in  despair, 
two  little  raindrops  up  in  the  clouds  over  his  head  saw  him,  and 
one  said  to  the  other : 

**Look  at  that  farmer;  I  feel  sorry  for  him,  he  has  taken  so 
much  pains  with  his  field  of  corn,  and  now  it  is  drying  up ;  I  wish 
I  could  do  him  some  good." 

**Yes,"  said  the  other,  '*but  you  are  only  a  little  raindrop; 
what  can  you  do?     You  can't  even  wet  one  hillock.'* 

**Well,"  said  the  first,  *'to  be  sure  I  can't  do  much,  but  I  can 
cheer  the  farmer  a  little  at  any  rate,  and  I  am  resolved  to  do  my 
best ;  I'll  try.  I'll  go  to  the  field  to  show  my  good  will,  if  I  can 
do  no  more  ;  and  so  here  I  go." 

The  first  raindrop  had  no  sooner  started  for  the  field  than  the 
second  one  said : 

**Well,  if  you  are  going,  I  believe  I  will  go,  too  ;  here  I  come." 
And  down  went  the  raindrops — one  came  pat  on  the  farmer's 
nose,  and  one  fell  on  a  stalk  of  corn.  **  Dear  me,"  said  the  farmer, 
putting  his  finger  to  his  nose,  ** what's  that?  A  raindrop! 
where  did  that  come  from?     I  do  believe  we  shall  have  a  shower." 

By  this  time  a  great  many  raindrops  had  come  together  to  hear 
what  their  companions  were  talking  about,  and  when  they  saw 
them  going  to  cheer  the  farmer  and  water  the  corn,  one  said : 
**If  you  are  going  on  such  a  good  errand,  I'll  go,  too,"  and 
down  he  came.  *'  And  I,"  said  another,  ''  and  I,"  and  so  on,  till 
a  whole  shower  came,  and  the  corn  was  watered,  and  it  grew  and 
ripened — all  because  the  first  little  raindrop  determined  to  do 
what  it  could, 

— Selected, 


236  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


Neptune^ 

Far  down  under  the  green  water,  where  the  sea-sand  lies 
smooth  and  white,  and  fishes  dart  about  like  flashes  of  silver 
among  the  seaweeds,  there  lived  the  old  ocean  god,  Neptune 
(Poseidon).  '* Father  Neptune,"  people  used  to  call  him. 
There  he  had  his  palace,  and  there  he  kept  the  wild  sea  horses 
which  he  had  trained  and  taught  to  draw  his  chariot  over  the 
water. 

One  morning,  as  Neptune  came  from  his  palace,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  find  everything  in  great  disorder.  The  water,  usually- 
still  and  clear  as  crystal,  with  the  green  light  shining  through 
it,  was  dim  and  disturbed  ;  it  beat  against  the  walls  of  the  palace 
and  was  full  of  bits  of  broken  shell  and  of  seaweeds  torn  from 
their  stems.  As  Neptune  stood  looking  about  him,  the  big,  good- 
natured  dolphins  came  rolling  uneasily  about  his  feet,  as  if  to 
ask  what  could  be  the  matter.  The  dolphins  were  wise  crea- 
tures, and  were  often  sent  about  as  messengers  by  Neptune.  So 
he  chose  one  now  to  go  and  find  out  the  cause  of  all  this  confu- 
sion. The  dolphin  soon  came  back,  saying  that  a  terrible  storm 
was  raging  above  ;  that  che  winds  were  rolling  great  waves  to  the 
shore  and  tossing  the  spray  high  in  the  air ;  that  he  had  seen 
ships,  too,  driven  upon  the  rocks  by  these  wild  winds,  or  on  dan- 
gerous shoals  and  shallows. 

Neptune  straightway  harnessed  his  horses,  mounted  the 
chariot,  and  with  firm  rein  guided  his  steeds  upward  to  the  scene 
of  the  storm.  Calm  and  majestic  the  ocean  god  sat  in  his 
chariot,  holding  his  trident  like  a  magic  wand,  and  the  rough 
waters  smoothed  themselves  out  before  him  as  he  went.  His  son 
Triton  swam  alongside,  a  twisted  seashell  in  his  hand,  on  which 
he  sometimes  blew  a  bugle  call.  The  dolpins,  too,  followed, 
swimming  hither  and  thither  and  tumbling  over  each  other  in 
their  eagerness  to  help.  At  last  they  reached  the  top  of  the 
water.  No  sooner  did  Neptune's  calm  head  rise  above  the  sur- 
face than,  like  magic,  the  tossing  waves  were  still  and  the  sea 
became  smooth  as  glass  ;  the  winds  subsided,  and  all  was  peaceful 
as  a  summer's  day. 

Neptune  called  the  winds  to  him,  and  reproving  them  severely 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  237 

for  their  rough  play,  sent  them  home  again  to  King  ^olus. 
Then  he  looked  for  the  unfortunate  ships  that  were  in  danger. 
Those  that  were  on  the  rocks  Triton  pried  off,  Neptune  helping 
with  his  trident,  and  those  that  had  been  driven  among  the 
shallows  they  led  back  to  deep  water.  At  last  all  was  in  order — 
and  it  was  a  grand  sight  to  see  calm  old  Father  Neptune  in  his 
chariot,  gliding  over  the  sea  he  had  made  quiet  again,  while  the 
dolphins  played  about  him,  their  smooth  backs  glistening  in 
the  sun. 

F.  H. 


The  Brook  and  the  Water  Wheel 

The  water  wheel  in  a  gristmill  went  round  and  round,  by  day 
and  by  night,  without  stopping.  Said  the  brook  one  day,  as  it 
passed  over  the  wheel : 

''  KvQ  you  not  tired  of  being  always  at  work,  and  of  doing  the 
same  thing  to-day  that  you  did  yesterday  ?  When  I  have  done  my 
work  in  making  you  turn,  I  glide  on  and  take  my  pleasure  in 
flowing  through  the  fields  and  woods." 

*'But  my  pleasure,"  replied  the  wheel,  "is  in  continuing  to 
work  and  go  round  and  round  grinding  up  the  corn." 

*' Yesterday,"  continued  the  brook,  '*as  1  flowed  through  the 
meadow,  I  heard  some  people  who  were  wandering  there  say  how 
beautiful  I  was,  and  what  sweet  music  I  made  as  I  rippled  over 
the  stones." 

**  And  no  doubt  they  said  what  was  true,"  replied  the  wheel, 
*'but  it  could  never  be  said  of  me.  How  would  I  look  rolling 
through  the  meadow?  I  would  not  be  admired  by  others,  nor 
would  I  enjoy  it  myself." 

*' You  are  to  be  admired  for  your  humility,"  said  the  brook, 
**  in  being  contented  with  so  dismal  a  place." 

*'  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  wheel,  **  for  when  this  place  was  given 
me,  I  was  given  also  a  liking  for  it." 

**But  do  you  not  long  for  the  sunlight  and  the  breeze  and  a 
sight  of  the  birds  and  the  flowers?  " 

**  No  more  than  you  do  for  this  dim  chamber  under  the  mill. 


238  IN  THE  child's  world.  • 

Here  I  was  made  to  dwell,  and  here  I  am  satisfied  to  be.  I  greet 
you  tumbling  in  from  the  mountain  side  over  my  head,  and  bid 
you  adieu  as  you  flow  out  joyously  under  my  feet ;  but  I  do  not 
long  to  follow  you.  The  summer's  heat  does  not  parch  me  here, 
nor  the  winter's  frost  stop  me  from  turning.  Even  in  this  dim 
twilight  I  revolve  and  listen  to  the  sound  of  the  grinding.  I 
delight  to  hear  the  farmer  drive  his  team  to  the  mill  door  loaded 
with  grain,  and  afterward  haul  it  away  when  I  have  made  it  into 
flour  for  his  wife  and  children  to  eat.  I  am  content  to  stay  here 
and  labor — not  by  constraint  nor  for  duty's  sake  alone,  but  be- 
cause the  place  accords  with  my  nature  and  therefore  it  is  my 
choice. 

Charles  Foster. 

From  ''New  Lights  on  Old  Paths,''  Chas.  Foster  Pub.  Co.,  Phua.,  Pa, 


FISHES, 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

Unless  you  have  been  a  dweller  in  the  country,  a  student  of  r^ature,  a 
haunter  of  rivers  and  brooksides,  a  lover  of  watery  scenes,  or  have  learned  your 
incompetency  as  a  judge  from  some  such  person,  fishes  will  seem  a  most  prosaic 
and  unattractive  division  of  the  animal  creation.  But  if  you  will  kindly  lay 
down  your  prejudice  and  contemplate  the  subject  earnestly  (through  books 
for  lack  of  better  opportunity),  you  will  find  your  prejudice  a  mistaken  one, 
and  it  will  be  replaced  by  admiration  and  delight.  Read  from  science  the 
wonderful  history  and  structure  of  the  fishes,  their  weapons  and  devices,  their 
infinite  variety  of  form,  color,  size,  motion,  and  then  let  the  poets  enhance  the 
wondrous  revelation. 

Sticklebacks,  goldfishes  or  minnows  can  be  kept  in  the  kindergarten,  but  are 
often  short-lived  because  of  being  overfed  or  kept  too  warm. 


THE  TALK. 


Do  you  remember  the  brook  we  talked  about,  and  the  busy 
liver,  and  the  wonderful  great  ocean?  Do  you  remember  what 
creatures  lived  in  all  these  waters? 

(The  children's  knowledge  being  the  true  starting  point,  elicit 
what  they  already  know  about  fishes.  Many  who  have  not  seen 
them  in  their  native  element  will  have  seen  them  in  the  fish 
markets.) 

Have  you  noticed  what  big  mouths  fishes  have,  and  what  round 


240  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

eyes?  Their  ears  do  not  show,  but  they  can  hear  for  all  that. 
Their  noses,  although  sharp  enough  for  smelling,  especially  whAi 
something  good  to  eat  floats  along  in  the  water,  are  of  no  use  to 
them  for  breathing,  as  ours  are.  But  the  fishes  do  not  mind 
that,  for,  since  they  live  in  the  water,  they  need  a  different 
way  of  breathing  from  animals  who  live  in  the  air.  So  they 
have  gills,  with  little  thin,  hard  covers  which  open  and  shut,  on 
each  side  of  the  head. 

A  fish  gulps  water  into  his  mouth  continually  and  sends  it  out 
through  his  gills.  Before  he  sends  the  water  out  through  his 
gills  he  gets  all  the  air  out  of  it.     This  is  his  way  of  breathing. 

The  skin  of  the  fish,  instead  of  being  covered  with  hair  like 
that  of  tke  cat  and  the  cow  and  the  horse,  is  covered  with  little 
hard,  shiny  bits,  called  scales.  These  are  often  of  beautiful 
colors.  I  believe  you  could  find  fishes  to  match  all  the  pretty  balls 
we  have  in  kindergarten  ! 

What  shape  is  the  fish's  body  usually?  Long  and  narrow,  that 
he  may  go  through  the  water  easily.  Do  you  remember  that  the 
cat,  the  horse  and  the  cow  all  had  backbones,  and  all  had  four 
legs — two  pairs,  that  is?  People  have  backbones,  and  have  two 
legs  and  two  arms — which  make  two  pairs,  also. 

The  fish  has  a  backbone.  (Show  by  a  picture  previously  drawn 
upon  the  blackboard.)  Has  he  any  legs?  Any  arms?  No  ;  but 
he  has  fins — two  leg-fins  and  two  arm-fins.  (If  not  possible  to 
show  these  facts  by  a  real  fish,  make  a  clay  model  of  good  size — 
five  or  six  inches  long — from  which  the  children  can  get  the  idea 
of  the  position  of  the  fins.) 

Fishes  often  have  single  fins  on  one  place  or  another,  but  these 
single  fins  only  grow  out  from  the  skin  and  are  not  part  of  the 
body  in  the  same  way  that  the  leg-fins  and  arm-fins  are. 

The  tail  is  a  single  fin.  Do  you  see  the  angle  in  the  tail? 
What  kind  of  an  angle  is  it? 

Do  you  know  what  the  fish  uses  his  fins  for?  To  balance  him- 
self with,  and  as  a  help  in  swimming.  His  tail  is  very  strong. 
He  pushes  himself  along  in  the  water  with  it,  and  also  uses  it  to 
steer  himself  in  whatever  direction  he  wishes  to  go,  while  his 
arm-fins  and  leg-fins  keep  him  from  falling  over. 

What  do  you  suppose  the  fishes  do  all  day  and  every  day  in  the 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  241 

water?  Swim?  Yes,  they  swim  and  play  and  chase  each  other 
about ;  they  dive  away  down,  sinking  deep  into  the  cold,  dark 
water,  and  then  rising  up  to  the  top,  where  it  is  warm  and  bright 
with  sunshine. 

In  the  deep,  deep  parts  of  the  ocean  it  is  dark,  just  as  it  is 
deep  down  in  the  earth  where  the  miner  works.  The  sunlight 
cannot  reach  so  far  through  the  water,  but  if  we  were  down  there 
we  should  see  lights  gleaming  through  the  darkness,  for  the 
fishes  that  live  so  far  down  have  a  strange  kind  of  light  flashing 
from  their  bodies,  and  so  can  see  their  way.  Doesn't  that  make 
you  think  of  the  miners  and  the  little  lamps  which  they  wear  so 
that  tliey  can  see  their  way  deep  down  in  the  earth,  where  the 
sunlight  cannot  reach? 

But  we  need  not  go  to  the  farthest  depths  of  the  great  ocean  to 
find  wonderful  and  beautiful  fishes.  Even  the  brooks  have 
pretty  little  fellows  in  them  that  look  as  if  they  were  made  of 
silver  or  gold. 

It  is  difficult  to  tell  whether  the  bright  colors  or  the  curious 
snapes  or  the  graceful  motions  of  the  fishes  are  most  interesting, 
but  when  you  hear  how  the  father  fishes  sometimes  build  nests 
and  take  care  of  the  eggs,  and  feed  and  protect  the  baby  fishes 
and  the  mother,  you  will  think  that  is  the  strangest  and  best 
of  all  the  many  facts  which  the  wise  men  have  learned. 


242 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Froebel's  Explanation  of  "The  Fish  in  the  Brook." 

Winners  in  Life's  Race  (Chaps.  I,  II,  III),     -        -        -        Arabella  Buckley 

The  Origin  of  Species, Darwin 

The  Song  of  Life,    -        -        '  -        -        -        Margaret  Morley 

The  Compleat  Angler,      -    "    '         _        ..        ..         -        _        .      j^aak  Walton 

Speckled  Trout,  \      .....        -  John  Burroughs 

Locusts  and  Wild  Honey,  j"'"""'-  s 

Paradise  Lost  (Book  VII,  Line  387),        ---_.-       Milton 

The  Fish,  the  Man,  and  the  Spirit, Leigh  Hunt 

Hiawatha's  Fishing, -         Longfellow 

For  the  Children. 

Birds  and  Fishes,  ("  Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning 

Talks  "), S.  E.  Wiltse 

Water  Babies  (The  Salmon),   ------        Charles  Kingsley 


STORIES. 
The  Minnow^s  Adventure* 

Oh !  such  a  beautiful  lake  !  The  water  was  so  clear  and  pure 
that  it  had  not  only  its  own  beauty,  but  could  take  the  beauty 
of  whatever  was  near  it.  Pictured  by  the  lake,  the  slender, 
white-robed  birches  and  the  graceful  willows  that  grew  on  the 
bank  were  as  beautiful  as  in  their  reality ;  and  so  were  the  blue 
of  the  sky,  the  gold  of  the  sunshine  and  the  silvery  light  of  the 
moon. 

The  lake  was  very,  very  deep.  In  some  places  near  the  shore, 
however,  it  was  shallow,  and  rippled  over  the  sand  with  only 
depth  enough  to  float  a  leaf. 

Out  in  the  deep  parts  of  the  lake  lived  the  black  bass  and  the 
pickerel  and  other  large  fishes ;  but  the  tiny  minnows,  and  their 
friends  liked  better  the  shallows,  where  the  water  was  gilded  and 
warmed  by  the  sunshine.  The  fishes  knew  that  there  was  an 
upper  world,  for  many  of  them  used  to  jump  up  a  little  way  out 
of  the  water  in  their  play,  but  they  never  stayed  long,  and  did 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  243 

not  like  what  little  they  knew  of  this  upper  world.     To  them  it 
seemed  too  bright  and  hot  and  dry. 

The  older  and  more  experienced  fishes  told  strange  tales  to 
each  other  of  wonderful  creatures  which,  from  time  to  time,  had 
been  known  to  come  into  the  water.  After  swimming  about  in 
a  more  or  less  clumsy  manner,  these  creatures  always  disappeared 
entirely ;  but  back  they  would  come,  again  and  again,  yes — the 
very  same  beings !  The  splashing  and  shaking  of  the  water 
which  most  of  them  made  was  something  astonishing,  and  the 
fishes  were  usually  too  much  frightened  by  it  to  get  more  than 
hasty  glimpses ;  but  as  each  fish  told  the  others  whatever  it  bad 
seen,  they  knew  that  there  were  many  different  kinds  of  crea- 
tures among  these  visitors,  and  that  it  must  be  that  they  came 
from  the  dry  upper  world.  I  cannot  tell  you  what  the  fishes 
call  them,  but  I  know  that  wild  ducks  and  frogs  and  dogs  and 
boys  loved  to  plunge  into  the  clear,  cool  water  of  the  lake,  and 
dive  and  swim  and  float  and  be  as  much  like  fishes  as  they  could. 
**  Poor  things  !  "  said  the  fishes.  **  What  a  pity  that  they  cannot 
stay  always  in  the  beautiful  water  world !  Then  they  might 
learn  to  swim  properly." 

,  The  minnows  knew  very  little  of  all  these  things,  however, 
though  they,  too,  sometimes  jumped  out  above  the  water ;  but 
one  of  their  number  had  a  strange  adventure  not  long  ago,  during 
which  he  learned  a  great  deal. 

He  was  darting  about  in  the  sparkling  water,  chasing  his  play- 
mates and  having  a  merry  frolic  with  them,  when  he  suddenly 
found  himself  swimming  round  and  round  alone,  and  in  a  very 
small  place.  It  surely  was  not  the  lake,  nor  yet  the  little  river 
down  which  he  had  come  some  time  ago.  The  minnow  knew 
only  these  two  places — the  river  and  the  lake.  He  had  never 
been  anywhere  else,  and  had  never  heard  of  any  world  beside 
the  water  world,  or  of  any  living  creatures  larger  than  the  black 
bass.  You  see  he  was  very  little  and  very  young,  scarcely  more 
than  a  baby  fish. 

As  he  swam  round  and  round  in  the  tin  dipper — for  it  was  a 
tin  dipper  in  which  he  had  been  caught — he  wondered  what  part 
of  the  lake  was  this,  and  why  he  could  not  swim  farther,  and 
where  his  friends  were. 


244  IN   THE   CHILD'S   WORLD. 

While  he  was  wondering,  a  black  shadow  cohered  the  water 
and  the  minnow  thought  that  night  was  coming  on ;  but  it  was 
only  the  shadow  of  a  little  boy's  head,  as  Philip,  the  owner  of 
the  tin  dipper,  looked  in  to  see  what  he  had  caught. 

**0h!  it's  a  shiner!"  said  he.  **I  never  thought  I  could 
catch  a  shiner,  they  are  so  lively.  I've  often  tried  before,  but 
they  always  got  away.     Isn't  he  pretty?  " 

**  Oh  !  let  me  see,  do,  Philip  !  "  said  another  eager  voice,  and 
another  little  head  bent  over  the  dipper. 

'*  Oh  !  Oh  !  Oh  !  What  a  darling  little  fish  !  And  how  fast  he 
goes !  What  round  eyes  he  has  and  what  a  big  mouth !  O 
Philip,  let's  take  him  home  and  have  him  for  a  pet !  " 

**A11  right,"  said  Philip;  '*we  can  put  him  in  the  goldfish 
globe." 

The  two  children  scrambled  up  the  bank  and  ran  into  the 
house.  They  carried  the  dipper  to  their  mamma  and  showed 
her  the  treasure  they  had  in  it. 

''Where  is  the  goldfish  globe,  mamma?  May  we  have  it? 
Isn't  he  a  dear  little  thing?     See  how  he  shines  !  " 

Mamma  was  almost  as  much  interested  as  the  children.  She 
lifted  the  glass  globe  down  from  the  high  shelf  where  it  stood, 
and  helped  to  fill  it  with  fresh,  cold  water. 

**  Now,  dearies,"  she  said,  *'  I  think  we  can  probably  keep  this 
little  fellow  happy  and  well  for  a  little  while,  and  you  can  take 
care  of  him  and  watch  him.  But  we  must  soon  let  him  go  back 
to  his  friends  in  the  lake,  for  I  am  sure  he  will  like  that  better 
than  to  stay  here,  no  matter  what  we  may  do  for  him." 

Philip  and  his  sister  were  less  disappointed  at  this  than  you 
might  think ;  fov  they  had  often  had  pets  in  this  way  before,  and 
had  learned  to  enjoy  it. 

**  Let's  make  it  as  much  like  the  lake  as  we  can,"  said  Philip. 
**  Don't  you  know  it  was  all  sandy  there  where  I  caught  him? 
We  can  put  some  sand  in  the  bottom  of  the  globe." 

''There  were  stones  there,  too,"  said  Nannie,  eagerly.  "1 
will  bring  those  two  pretty  stones  I  found  yesterday." 

In  a  little  while  the  globe  was  ready  and  the  water  in  the  dip- 
per was  poured  gently  into  it,  the  minnow  scarcely  knowing  when 
the  change  was  made. 


IN  THE  CHILD*S  WORLD.  245 

When  he  first  noticed  the  white  sand  at  the  bottom  of  the 
water,  he  darted  down  and  nestled  in  it,  thinking  for  a  moment 
that  he  was  back  in  the  lake  ;  but  he  soon  found  that  he  was  still 
in  a  small  place  and  alone.  When  he  tried  to  swim  straight 
ahead,  he  always  came  against  the  glass  side  of  the  globe ;  and 
this  puzzled  him  very  much,  for  it  was  as  clear  as  water  and  yet 
so  hard.  He  knew  he  had  never  seen  anything  like  that  in  the 
lake.  I  suppose  an  older  fish  would  have  thought  it  was  ice. 
When  the  minnow  found  that  he  could  not  swim  a  long  way  in 
this  place,  and  that  it  certainly  was  not  the  lake,  he  began  to 
explore  very  carefully,  and  soon  decided  that  it  was,  at  any  rate, 
a  very  pleasant  place. 

The  sand  and  the  pretty  stones  at  the  bottom  seemed  very 
homelike,  and  the  minnow  soon  found  that  he  could  play  very 
much  as  he  used  to  in  the  lake,  although,  of  course,  he  missed 
his  companions. 

The  stones  had  been  placed  a  little  way  apart,  and  it  was 
great  fun  to  swim  between  them  and  around  them  part  of  the 
time.  He  could  play  **sink  and  rise,'*  too,  and  that  is  one  of 
the  favorite  plays  among  fishes.  He  was  so  glad  that  the  water 
in  the  globe  was  deep  enough  for  that  game.  Altogether  the 
minnow  decided  that  he  could  be  very  comfortable  in  this  new 
home,  although  it  was  not  to  be  compared  with  the  lake,  and 
although  he  could  never  be  quite  happy  without  any  companions. 

While  he  was  swimming  about  and  his  little  fish  brain  (for  fishes 
have  brains)  was  full  of  these  thoughts,  Philip  and  Nannie  were 
watching  him  with  great  delight.  They  enjoyed  seeing  his  grace- 
ful motions  as  he  darted  back  and  forth  between  the  stones  or 
swam  around  near  the  side  of  the  globe,  sometimes  stretching  and 
straightening  himself  out,  but  usually  curving  his  wavy  little  body 
one  way  and  another. 

The  children  wondered  whether  he  was  ever  perfectly  still ;  for 
they  saw  that  even  when  he  floated,  as  he  did  occasionally  near 
the  top  of  the  water,  he  moved  either  his  tail  or  his  fins  slightly 
and  lazily. 

Mamma  was  kept  busy  answering  their  questions  and  they  were 
very  much  interested  in  all  she  told  them.  They  could  see  the 
minnow  gulp  in  water  with  his  big  mouth,  and  open  and  shut  his 


246         *  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

gill  covers  as  he  sent  the  water  out  again,  and  their  mamma 
explained  that  he  did  not  send  the  water  out  through  his  gills 
until  after  he  had  used  the  air  from  it,  and  that  this  was  the  fish's 
way  of  breathing. 

**I  think  'shiners'  is  a  good  name  for  these  minnows,"  said 
Philip. 

**Yes,"  said  Nannie,  *'but  this  one  ought  to  have  a  special 
name.     What  shall  we  call  him.  Mamma  ?" 

Mamma  suggested  several  names  :  Silversides,  Flash,  Speckle, 
Twistabout,  Ripple  and  Dart ; — and  the  children  finally  decided 
on  ** Ripple  Silversides."  *'  He  ought  to  have  two,"  said  Nannie, 
**  just  as  we  have." 

All  that  day  the  children  hovered  about  the  globe,  finding  more 
and  more  to  admire  in  their  active  little  pet,  and  wondering  more 
and  more  at  his  shining  scales,  his  delicate,  gauzy  fins,  his  round, 
staring  eyes,  and  funny  mouth. 

The  next  morning,  the  children's  first  thought  was  for  Ripple 
Silversides.  They  found  him  as  lively  as  ever,  and  flashing 
brightly  in  the  sunlight  which  streamed  in  at  the  window. 

Philip  caught  him  at  last  by  dipping  a  little  cup  into  the  globe, 
but  he  had  to  try  a  great  many  times.  Nannie  had  the  dipper 
ready  filled  with  fresh  water,  and  Ripple  was  soon  transferred. 

The  next  thing  was  to  take  him  to  the  lake,  and  Philip  and 
Nannie  ran  down  the  bank  with  almost  as  much  eagerness  as  when 
they  had  scrambled  up  the  day  before  ;  for  they  had  been  thinking 
what  fun  Ripple  would  have  in  telling  his  friends  where  he  had 
been  and  what  he  had  seen,  so  they  were  in  a  hurry  to  put  him 
back  into  his  old  home.  They  went  to  the  very  place  where  they 
had  found  him,  put  the  dipper  down  under  the  water  and  saw 
him  an  instant  as  he  swam  over  the  dipper's  edge  and  out  into 
the  lake. 

**  Now  he  is  gone  !  "  said  Philip.  **  Oh,  see  !  There  is  a  whole 
crowd  of  them !     Now  I  cannot  tell  which  one  is  Ripple  !  " 

Nannie  looked  rather  wistfully  at  the  swift  flashes  gleaming 
farther  and  farther  away  in  the  water.  *'  I  suppose  Ripple  is 
delighted  to  be  back  there  again,"  she  said.  **0f  course  it  is 
more  fun  than  it  would  be  for  him  to  live  alone  in  a  glass  globe 
in  the  house." 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  *         247 

In  the  meantime,  Ripple  Silversides  was  enjoying  to  the  utmost 
the  freedom  of  swimming  in  a  big  place,  and  the  fun  of  being 
again  one  of  a  throng.  The  excitement  of  the  other  minnows  at 
his  return  and  at  what  he  told  them  was  very  great ;  and  for  a 
long  time  Ripple  Silverside's  adventure  was  one  of  the  favorite 
stories  of  the  water-world  ! 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


Mr»  Stickleback* 

A  certain  little  fish  was  swimming  about  in  the  river  one  day, 
wondering  what  he  should  do  with  himself.  He  was  usually  a 
happy  fellow,  quite  satisfied  to  pass  his  time  as  the  other  young 
fishes  did ;  but  now  he  was  getting  older  and  began  to  feel  as  if  he 
wanted  to  do  more  than  simply  find  his  own  food  and  amuse 
himself. 

True,  there  was  plenty  of  fun  to  be  had.  Perhaps  you  think 
that  children  are  the  only  ones  who  enjoy  playing  **  tag  "  and 
**  hide-and-seek,"  and  running  races  ;  but,  if  so,  you  must  change 
your  mind  about  that,  for  the  fishes  know  all  these  games  and 
many  more,  and  have  merry  times  down  in  the  water. 

But  *'  Fun  is  not  fun  if  you  have  too  much  of  it,"  thought  this 
little  fish ;  (oh,  but  he  was  a  wise  one  !)  **  I  wonder  what  else  1 
can  find  to  do  !  He  swam  idly  toward  the  bank  of  the  river,  and 
wandered  among  the  plants  that  grew  there.  Suddenly  he  caught 
sight  of  something  fastened  to  one  of  the  plants. 

**  Oh  !  how  beautiful !  how  convenient !  "  thought  Mr.  Stickle- 
back as  he  swam  nearer  and  looked  more  closely  at  the  newly 
discovered  object. 

**  No  dinner  here  for  you,  sir  !  "  gasped  an  excited  voice  ;  and 
our  little  friend  found  himself  nose  to  nose  with  another  fish  very 
much  like  himself,  and  who  seemed  all  ready  to  be  angry  with 
him. 

** Dinner!  IVe  just  had  my  dinner,  and  a  good  one,  too;  I 
shan't  be  hungry  for  some  time  yet,"  said  Mr.  Stickleback.  **I 
was  merely  admiring  this  pretty  nest  here.  No  harm  in  that,  is 
there,  friend?"  he  added  peaceably. 

The  other  fish  grew  quiet  as  Mr.  Stickleback  said  this,  and 


248  IN  THE  child's  world. 

answered,  a  little  apologetically  :  *'I  thought  you  might  be  after 
eggs ;  and  though  I  have  no  eggs  as  yet,  I  want  to  discourage  all 
prowlers.  Of  course,  while  I  have  a  spine  in  my  body  I  will  de- 
fend my  nest  and  my  eggs.'' 

**Why,  that  is  just  the  way  I  should  feel,  I  know  it  is.  I  do 
not  blame  you  one  bit,"  said  Mr.  Stickleback.  **  And,  speaking 
of  spines,  aren't  mine  romething  like  yours?  and  isn't  your  family 
name  Cottoida?  " 

**  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  other  pushing  himself  a  little  nearer 
with  his  right  fin ;  **but  I  am  usually  called  Stickleback, — Purple 
Stickleback,  on  account  of  my  color,  you  see." 

'*  And  I  am  Stickleback,  too, — Scarlet  Stickleback,  on  account 
of  my  color ;  and  we  are  of  the  very  same  family.  How  delightful ! 
Let's  have  a  race  !  "  and  off  they  started  with  one  vigorous  whisk 
of  their  tails  which  sent  them  swiftly  down  the  stream. 

They  never  knew  how  pretty  they  looked ;  but  as  they  flashed 
along,  one  in  deep  beautiful  purple,  the  other  in  **  glowing  scarlet 
trimmed  with  white  and  green,"  their  color  gleamed  out  with 
wonderful  brightness.  They  soon  swam  back  to  the  group  of 
plants,  for  Purple  Stickleback  would  not  go  far  from  his  nest ; 
and  Mr.  Stickleback  said :  "  Nouf  I  know  what  to  do.  I  am  going 
to  make  a  nest  like  yours." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  other.  ** There's  plenty  of  room  here, 
and  I  do  not  think  there  is  a  better  place  along  the  whole  bank." 

Mr.  Scarlet  Stickleback  was  already  too  much  interested  to  care 
to  talk  or  play  any  more.  He  peered  about  among  the  plants 
looking  for  strong  stems  to  which  to  fasten  his  nest,  and  soon 
decided. 

**I  can  make  it  firm  here,"  he  said  to  himself,  ''even  if  the 
river  rushes  as  wildly  as  it  did  after  the  last  storm."  Then  Mr. 
Stickleback  went  to  work  indeed.  He  bit  off  pieces  of  leaf  and 
carried  them  to  the  plant  stems  which  he  had  chosen,  fastening 
each  bit  with  some  glue  which  he  found  he  had  with  him.  Back 
and  forth  He  went,  patiently  biting,  carrying,  gluing  the  tiny 
bits  of  leaf,  until  at  last  he  had  pieced  together  a  leafy  floor  large 
enough  for  the  bottom  of  his  house 

Then  he  stopped  to  rejoice  over  his  work  and  to  consider  what 
to  do  next.     *'It  seems  to  be  rather  thin  and  light,"  he  said,  as 


MR.  STICKLEBACK  AND  HIS  NEST 


249 


250  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

he  watched  it  swaying  up  and  down  in  the  water,  although  fast- 
ened by  its  edges  to  the  plant  stems.  **  I  know  how  I  can  make 
it  steady ; "  and  quick  as  thought  Mr.  Stickleback  folded  his  fins 
close  to  his  body  and  darted  down  through  the  water  to  the  sandy 
bottom  of  the  river.  His  plan  was  to  take  sand  up  to  his  nest  and 
so  make  the  floor  of  it  heavy  and  steady.  Perhaps  you  are  won- 
dering how  he  was  going  to  carry  the  sand,  he,  a  little  fish,  with 
no  hands,  nor  claws,  nor  feet ;  but  he  wasted  no  time  in  wondering. 
He  would  not  ask  any  better  way  than  his  way,  which  was  to  fill 
his  mouth  with  sand.  Rising  to  the  clump  of  plants,  he  very 
carefully  emptied  the  sand  from  his  mouth  on  the  green  floor,  and 
then  dived  again.  This  he  did  several  times,  until  he  had  sprin- 
kled the  whole  floor  with  sand  and  made  it  so  heavy  that  it  no 
longer  bobbed  up  and  down  in  the  water,  but  kept  its  place  un- 
disturbed, even  when  he  tested  it  as  he  did  by  lashing  his  tail 
about  furiously  and  making  a  great  commotion  in  the  water. 

**So  far,  so  good,"  he  said  to  himself:  *' and  now  I  must  make 
the  walls.  This  is  going  to  be  a  beautiful  nest !  "  Then  followed 
more  biting  of  leaves,  and  carrying,  and  gluing  the  bits  together. 
Slow  work  it  was,  with  no  tools,  remember !  no  hands,  or  feet,  or 
claws.  But  little  by  little  the  green  sides  were  built  up  higher 
around  the  edge  of  the  platform,  and  finally  a  roof  was  made  in 
the  same  way — of  leaf  bits  glued  together.  As  he  built  he  con- 
stantly rubbed  against  the  inside  walls  of  the  house,  and  a  sort  of 
sticky  stuff  which  oozed  out  of  his  body  was  rubbed  off ;  and,  what 
do  you  think?  this  hardened  into  a  sort  of  varnish,  so  that  the 
inside  of  his  house  was  as  smooth  and  nice  as  could  be  ! 

Mr.  Stickleback's  nest  was  not  like  a  bird's  nest,  all  open  on 
the  top.  It  was  more  in  the  shape  of  a  barrel,  and  about  as  large 
as  a  man's  fist ;  and  he  made  two-  round  doorways  in  it.  When 
he  had  finished  these,  he  swam  through  and  through  the  nest  with 
great  delight,  rejoicing  in  the  smooth  walls,  the  strong  floor,  and 
the  dooi'ways  just  large  enough  for  him  to  swim  through  easily. 
When  he  was  perfectly  satisfied  that  there  was  nothing  more  he 
could  do  to  make  the  nest  prettier  or  better,  he  swam  swiftly 
away. 

It  was  some  time  before  he  came  back ;  but  when  he  did  come, 
h^  was  not  alon?.    Jle  brought  Mrs.  Stickleback  with  himj  ao^ 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  251 

you  can  imagine  how  happy  he  was  to  show  her  the  nest  he  had 
built,  and  how  pleased  she  must  have  been. 

By  and  by  when  the  nest  was  full  of  eggs,  Mr.  Stickleback  was 
so  busy  he  scarcely  knew  what  to  do.  He  was  so  anxious  about 
those  eggs !  and  with  good  reason,  too,  for  some  of  the  hungry 
fishes  would  have  been  glad  to  eat  them  if  they  could  have  found 
a  chance.  But  Mr.  Stickleback  was  too  watchful  for  them.  The 
way  he  swam  about  that  nest — first  to  one  door  and  then  to  the 
other,  to  see  that  the  eggs  were  safe — was  something  wonderful 
to  see. 

He  was  very  particular  about  leaving  both  doorways  open, 
although  it  made  more  for  him  to  guard,  of  course  ;  but  the  wise 
little  fellow  knew  that  the  eggs  needed  the  fresh,  cool  water  of  the 
river  to  flow  over  them  in  order  to  hatch  them,  so  he  was  more 
than  willing  to  watch  both  doors.  Besides  protecting  the  eggs, 
Mr.  Stickleback  had  to  turn  them  over  sometimes,  taking  those 
«7hich  were  underneath  and  putting  them  on  the  top  so  that  the 
water  should  flow  over  them  all. 

This  busy  time  lasted  for  several  weeks*  and  then — then  Mr. 
Stickleback  became  busier  than  ever ;  for  all  the  tiny  eggs  over 
which  he  had  been  watching  hatched  into  little  fishes,  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  baby  Sticklebacks,  his  own  little  ones  ! 

Back  door,  front  door,  back  door,  front  door — more  like  a  fierce 
little  soldier  than  ever  was  Mr.  Stickleback  as  he  went  his  rounds 
now,  defending  his  babies  as  he  had  defended  his  eggs  from  the 
hungry  fishes.  And  how  they  grew,  those  babies  !  It  seemed  to 
Papa  Stickleback  as  if  they  were  scarcely  hatched  before  they 
began  to  get  out  of  the  nest.  *'  In,  in  !  stay  in,  my  dears  !  "  he 
would  say  as  he  looked  at  them  through  the  front  door ;  but  in 
the  meantime,  one  or  two  would  slip  out  of  the  back  door  and 
swim  away.  They  were  too  little  to  know  any  better  and  Papa 
Stickleback  could  only  chase  after  them  as  fast  as  his  fins  could 
carry  him  and  take  them  back  to  the  nest,  one  at  a  time.  How 
did  he  carry  the  children?  Why,  just  as  he  had  carried  the  sand 
when  building  his  nest.  In  his  mouth !  By  the  time  he  had 
caught  the  little  runaways,  or  swimaways,  and  had  poked  them 
mto  the  nest  again,  one  or  two  others  would  have  gone  out  of  the 
tront  door ;  and  he  would  have  to  swim  after  them  and  catch  them 


•  Some  authorities  say  two,  or  tnree  tome  sav  six  weeks. 


^52  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

and  carry  them  back  in  his  mouth.     Yes,  indeed,  it  was  a  time 
of  great  anxiety. 

When  the  poor  father  -was  very  much  -worried,  his  gay  colors 
would  grow  dull  and  pale,  but  they  would  brighten  again  when 
all  went  well  with  his  family ;  while  if  an  enemy  came  near  the 
nest,  the  red  and  green  of  Mr.  Stickleback's  uniform  became  more 
brilliant  as  he  bravely  fought  to  protect  his  little  ones.  So  brave 
was  this  tiny  little  father,  in  fact,  that  he  would  rush  out  and 
drive  away  fishes  a  great  deal  bigger  than  himself  if  he  thought 
they  were  coming  to  trouble  his  family. 

Fish  babies  grow  fast,  however,  as  I  said  before,  and  the  happy 
day  soon  came  when  Papa  Stickleback  had  all  his  children  out  of 
the  nest  and  away  from  the  plants,  and  was  teaching  them  the 
games  which  he  used  to  play  when  he  was  young. 

In  the  midst  of  the  fun  they  were  joined  by  Mr.  Purple  Stickle- 
back and  his  children.  *' Hurrah  for  a  race  between  us, — you 
and  your  children  on  one  side,  and  I  and  my  children  on  the 
other,"  said  he.  So  the  two  companies  started  off,  and  it  was  a 
sight  to  see  ! — their  gauzy  fins  waving,  their  bodies  shining,  and 
their  colors — the  deep,  beautiful  purple  and  the  *' glowing  scarlet 
trimmed  with  white  and  green" — making  the  water  glow  with 
splendor  as  they  flashed  through  it.  You  would  almost  have 
thought  that  a  rainbow  had  fallen  into  the  stream  ! 

How  the  race  ended  I  do  not  know ;  but  I  do  know  that  by  this 
time  some  of  those  Stickleback  children  must  have  grown  up  and 
made  nests  of  their  own,  and  they  probably  were  just  as  busy  and 
as  happy  and  as  faithful  in  taking  care  of  their  children  as  their 
little  father  had  been ;  for  it  is  said  that  all  the  Stickleback  fathers 
are  of  just  that  kind  ! 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


TREES, 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


(For  ourselves,  in 
our  study  of  trees,  we 
might  take  a  first 
word  from  Emerson, 
who  says  in  his  essay 
on  Nature:  "It  seems 
as  if  the  day  was  not 
wholly  profane  in  which 
we  have  given  heed  to 
some  natural  object." 

Have  ready  some 
twigs  with  leaf-buds 
on  them.  By  keeping 
these  in  the  house  a  few  days  in  water  and  where  they  get  the  sunshine,  and 
by  having  besides  a  few  twigs  freshly  gathered  on  the  day  of  the  talk,  you  can 
have  leaf -buds  in  difiEerent  stages  of  opening.  Have  also  pieces  of  wood, 
some  with  bark  and  some  without,  and  a  transverse  slice  which  will  show  the 
rings  of  growth. 

Maple  sugar — enough  for  each  child  to  have  a  taste — and  pieces  of  India 
rubber  should  be  provided  also,  but  kept  in  reserve  till  the  subject  of  sap  is 
reached. 

Begin  the  talk  by  letting  the  children  examine  twigs,  leaf -buds,  bark,  etc., 
and  tell  that  they  come  from  the  tree.) 


THE  TALK. 


How  do  trees  look  in  winter?  Is  it  winter  now?  No,  it  is 
spring — early  spring.  In  early  spring  how  do  the  trees  look? 
What  have  we  found  on  the  tree  twigs  this  morning?  How  will 
the  trees  look  in  summer?  How  will  they  get  all  the  pretty, 
green  leaves  they  have  in  summer?  From  the  leaf -buds,  of 
course.  The  leaves — tiny,  tiny  ones,  but  a  great  many — are 
packed  tightly  away  in  all  the  buds  on  all  the  twigs,  and  when 


254  IN   THE   CHILD*S   WORLD. 

the  spring  rains  have  watered  them  and  the  spring  sunshine  has 
warmed  them,  the  leaf-buds  will  open  wider  and  wider  each  day, 
and  finally  spread  out  these  little  new  leaves  to  the  air  and  sun 
and  showers. 

The  tall,  thick  part  of  the  tree  is  called  the  trunk.  (Show 
rings  of  growth  and  explain  them ;  explain  also  that  by  counting 
these  rings  the  age  of  the  tree  may  be  approximately  determined.) 
Do  you  know  any  other  parts  of  the  tree?  (Branches,  boughs, 
roots,  etc.) 

Was  the  tree  from  which  I  broke  this  twig  aiways  a  big  tree  ? 
No,  it  has  been  growing  for  many  years.  Long  ago  it  was  a  tiny 
tree,  aiid  before  that  it  was  only  a  seed.  This  seed  sent  little 
roots  down  into  the  ground  and  pushed  a  little  stem  up  through 
the  ground,  and  so  it  became  a  tiny  tree.  It  drank  the  water 
which  the  rain  brought,  and  it  breathed  the  fresh  air  which  the 
winds  brought,  and  rejoiced  and  grew  green  and  strong  in  the 
warm  sunshine,  and  grew  larger  and  larger  every  year  ;  and  so  it 
became  a  tall,  thick  tree,  with  many  branches.  (Speak  of  the 
roots,  reaching  out  on  all  sides  in  the  ground,  as  the  branches 
do  in  the  air,  and  of  the  firm  support  this  gives  the  tree.  How 
does  the  tree  drink  water?  Through  the  little  spongy  mouths 
at  the  tip  ends  of  the  roots.  The  water  soaks  through  the  roots 
to  the  stem  or  trunk,  up  through  the  trunk  into  the  branches, 
and  from  the  branches  into  the  twigs  and  stems,  and  then  into 
every  leaf.  The  water  which  the  roots  drink  is  not  just  the 
same  as  when  it  fell  from  the  clouds  in  rain,  because  it  has 
soaked  through  the  ground  and  now  has  in  it  just  what  the  trees 
need.  As  it  passes  up  into  the  tree  it  is  called  sap  (crude  sap) . 
After  it  has  flowed  out  to  the  leaves  the  (elaborated)  sap  flows 
back  all  through  the  tree  again,  and  it  helps  the  tree  to  grow ; 
just  as  what  we  eat  and  drink  helps  our  bodies  to  grow. 

A  tree  or  plant  cannot  live  and  grow  without  sap.  When  you 
break  a  flower  from  a  plant  and  find  the  stem  wet  and  juicy,  it 
is  because  sap  was  flowing  through  the  stem.  At  the  time  when 
the  bluebird  and  the  robin  first  come  back,  the  sap  starts,  and 
flows  up  and  down  in  the  tree  most  busily,  as  if  to  hurry  and 
make  its  thousands  of  leaves  grow  to  hide  the  nests  of  the  birds. 

People  found  out  that  they  could  make  something  very  deli- 


IN   THE  child's  world.  255 

cious  out  of  the  sap  of  a  certain  kind  of  maple  tree.  It  is  called 
the  sugar-maple  tree.  Does  n't  that  make  you  think  of  some- 
thing? (Sugar-maple,  maple  sugar !)  Surely  maple  sugar  is 
made  of  the  sap  of  the  sugar-maple  tree  !  The  farmer  away  off 
in  the  country  cut  a  hole  in  the  tree  just  deep  enough  to  reach 
the  sap  as  it  flowed  down,  put  a  little  wooden  pipe  into  the  hole, 
and  hung  a  pail  on  the  pipe.  The  sap  flowed  through  the  tree 
trunk,  but  when  it  came  to  the  hole  it  ran  out  into  the  pipe. 
The  farmer  put  the  sap  which  he  gathered  from  all  his  sugar 
maples  into  a  big  boiler  and  boiled  it  till  the  water  went  off  in 
steam  and  left  just  the  thick  sugar.  Should  you  like  to  see 
some?  Should  you  like  to  taste  some?  You  shall,  at  lunch 
time.  The  farmer  does  not  take  all  of  the  sap.  There  is  plenty 
left  for  the  sugar-maple  tree  to  use  for  its  growing. 

There  are  other  trees  whose  sap  is  useful  for  different  pur- 
poses ;  but  we  will  only  speak  of  one  other  now — the  india-rubber 
tree  (the  caoutchouc) — which  grows  in  the  hot  countries.  (Let 
the  children  name  articles  made  from  the  sap  of  this  tree. 

Speak  of  the  beauty  of  trees,  the  grateful  shade  afforded  by 
their  foliage,  the  fruits,  the  vari-colored  leaves  of  autumn,  and 
then  again  of  the  usefulness  of  the  sap  to  the  tree  and  to  us  ;  and, 
lastly,  of  wood  and  its  manifold  uses.) 


256  IN   THE   child's   WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Trees, George  B.  Emerson 

Trees  of  North  Eastern  America, Newhall 

Succession  of  Forest  Trees, Thoreau 

Trees.     How  to  tell  some  of  them  in  Winter  ("The  Kinder- 
garten," January,  1891),  - -        E.  G.  Howe 

North  American  Trees,    -         -         -     '    -         -         -         -  Charles  Sargent 

A  Taste  of  Maine  Birch, John  Burroughs 

Hiawatha's  Canoe, Longfellow 

Forest  Hymn, Bryant 

Planting  of  the  Apple  Tree, Bryant 

The  Birch  Tree,  ] 

?i;:?:^ga.        -  -  -  - w 

Rhoecus,  J 

The  Dryads,     -         -         - Leigh  Hunt 

The  Plucky  Prince,  -         -         -         -         -         -        '' St.  Nicholas,''  1 883 

The  Wood  Giant, Whittier 

The  Palm  Tree, Whittier 

The  Talking  Oak, --   Tennyson 

0  Woodman  Spare  that  Tree! George  P.  Morris 

For  the  Children* 

The  Miraculous  Pitcher, -         -     //.  Hawthorne 

The  Little  Tree  that  Wanted  Other  Leaves. 

A  Story  for  the  Staffs  and  Rings  ("  Kindergarten  Stories  and 

Morning  Talks"), S.  E.  Wiltse 


STORES^ 


The  Four  Apple  Trees* 

Many  years  ago  there  was  a  man  who  wanted  to  have  a  beau- 
tiful orchard.  So  he  sent  for  some  young  trees,  knowing  that  he 
should  not  have  to  wait  so  long  for  his  orchard  if  he  planted 
trees  which  had  already  had  a  good  start  in  growing. 

Unfortunately,  however,  the  trees  arrived  just  at  a  time  when 
the  man  was  obliged  to  leave  home  for  several  days.  He  was 
afraid  the   trees  would  not  live  unless  they  were  planted  very 


IN   THE   CHILD'S   WORLD.  257 


soon,  and  yet  he  could  not  stay  to  attend  to  them.  Just  then  a 
man  came  along  who  wanted  work. 

**Do  you  know  how  to  set  out  trees?  "  asked  the  owner. 

**  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  other  man. 

**  Then  you  may  stay  and  set  out  these  young  apple  trees.  I 
am  going  to  have  an  orchard,  and  I  have  marked  the  places  for 
the  trees,  with  stones." 

By  and  by  the  owner  of  the  trees  came  back  and  went  to  look 
at  his  orchard.     He  had  been  gone  four  days. 

**  How  is  this  !  "  said  he  ;   **only  four  trees  set  out?  " 

'*That  is  all  I  had  time  for,"  answered  the  other  man.  *'I 
dug  great  holes,  so  that  the  roots  might  be  spread  out  to  the 
farthest  tip ;  I  hauled  rich  earth  from  the  woods,  so  that  the 
trees  might  have  the  best  of  food ;  I  set  the  trees  straight  and 
filled  the  holes  with  care.  This  took  all  the  time,  but  these  four 
trees  are  well  planted." 

**That  is  too  slow  a  way  for  me,"  said  the  owner.  '*I  can 
plant  the  whole  orchard  in  one  day." 

So  he  went  to  work  and  planted  the  other  trees  in  his  own 
way.  He  did  not  dig  the  holes  large  enough  or  deep  enough, 
and  so,  many  of  the  little  root-mouths  were  broken  off  when  he  set 
the  trees  into  the  holes.  He  did  not  take  pains  to  get  soft,  rich 
earth  to  fill  the  holes,  and  so  the  trees  could  not  have  as  good 
food  as  they  needed. 

The  poor  little  trees  lived  for  a  while,  but  they  were  never 
very  strong,  never  bore  very  good  apples,  and  at  last  were  cut 
down.  All  that  was  left  of  the  orchard  were  the  four  trees 
which  had  been  planted  with  such  faithfulness  and  care. 

These  four  trees  are  now  older  than  an  old  man,  and  have  been 
bearing  delicious  great  apples  for  many,  many  years. 

As  Dr.  E.  E.  Hale  says,  when  he  tells  the  story,  these  four  apple 
trees  stand  as  a  memorial  of  what  it  is  to  do  a  thing  well. 


The  Story  of  Echo. 

Among  the  trees  of  the  forest,  and  where  the  cool  streams  run, 
beautiful  wood-nymphs  used  to  have  their  homes.  They  loved  to 
play  in  the  flickering  sunlight  and  under  the  dancing  leaves,  and 


258  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

people  sometimes  caught  sight  of  the  gleam  of  their  white  feet  as 
they  dipped  them  in  the  rushing  waters  of  the  brook. 

There  was  one  gay  nymph  named  Echo,  whose  chief  amuse- 
ment was  to  play  tricks  upon,  and  to  tease  her  companions. 
**  Daphne  !  Oh,  come  here  ! — quick — just  see  !  "  she  would  some- 
times call,  and  when  Daphne  came  running  to  the  spot,  eager  to 
see  what  there  was  to  be  seen,  Echo  would  have  vanished  as  com- 
pletely as  if  she  had  never  been  there — until  presently  a  stifled 
laughed  showed  her  hiding  place. 

Echo  was,  too,  a  great  chatterer ;  she  never  listened  long  to 
any  one  else,  but  was  sure  to  talk  a  great  deal  herself.  One  day 
she  came  upon  a  shepherd  sitting  on  a  rock,  and,  watching  his 
sheep  as  they  cropped  the  grass  below,  she  noticed  that  some  of 
the  sheep  were  beginning  to  stray  from  the  flock,  and,  thinking 
this  a  fine  chance  for  a  bit  of  fun,  she  at  once  began  to  laugh  and 
talk  with  the  shepherd,  to  keep  him  from  thinking  of  his  charge. 
Presently  not  one  of  the  flock  was  left  in  sight,  and  then,  with  a 
laugh  at  the  dismayed  face  of  the  shepherd,  Echo,  too,  ran  away 
and  left  him. 

At  first  the  other  nymphs  used  to  laugh  at  her  nonsense,  and 
enjoyed  the  fun  as  much  as  Echo  herself  did ;  but  as  she  was 
continually  playing  her  tricks  upon  everybody  in  season  and  out 
of  season,  and  as  the  tricks,  like  that  she  played  on  the  shepherd, 
were  often  unkind  ones,  her  companions  gradually  came  to  leave 
her  out  of  their  sports  and  plays,  and  after  a  time,  as  she  did  not 
mend  her  ways,  avoided  her  altogether.  One  day  it  happened  that 
Juno  (Hera) ,  the  queen  of  the  gods,  came  to  the  forest,  and 
Echo  troubled  her  so  much  with  her  foolish  chattering  that, 
finally,  Juno  declared  a  just  punishment  upon  the  teasing  nymph. 
*'  Since  Echo  talks  and  jokes  only  to  weary  every  one,"  Juno  said, 
**  she  shall  no  longer  be  able  to  speak  unless  some  one  first  speaks 
to  her.  She  shall  have  power  to  answer,  but  never  to  begin  a 
conversation." 

Echo,  ashamed  and  sorry,  went  away  into  the  deep  woods, 
where  ever  after  she  dwelt  alone.  She  was  seldom  seen  by  men, 
but  a  traveler,  once,  coming  out  of  the  wood,  told  how  he  had 
lost  his  way  at  nightfall,  and  had  called  loudly,  hoping  some  one 
might  hear  and  come  to  his  aid ;  he  seemed  to  have  a  faint  answer, 


IN   THE  child's   WORLD.  259 

he  said,  but  as  he  could  not  tell  whence  it  came,  he  called  again, 
saying  **  Come  here  !"  **  Here,"  the  voice  answered.  **  Where  are 
you  ? ' '  he  called .  *  *  Where  are  you  ?  ' '  replied  the  voice .  Finally, 
out  of  patience,  **  Away  with  you  !  **  he  shouted.  *'  Away  with 
you,"  came  back  with  an  angry  sound.  After  that  he  heard  no 
more,  nor,  although  he  searched  the  wood,  was  he  able  to  find  a 
trace  of  any  one. 

Echo's  voice  is  still  heard  sometimes  in  lonely  places — but  only 
when  some  one  calls  to  her ; — if  the  call  is  a  laughing  one,  she 
laughs  back ;  if  it  is  sad,  she  answers  mournfully,  but,  merry  or 
sad,  she  never  shows  herself. 

F.  H. 


The  Tf  ee« 

The  Tree's  early  leaf -buds  were  bursting  their  brown; 
"  Shall  I  take  them  away?  "  said  the  Frost,  sweeping  down. 
"  No,  let  them  alone 
Till  the  blossoms  have  grown," 
Prayed  the  Tree,  while  it  trembled  from  rootlet  to  crown. 

The  Tree  bore  its  blossoms,  and  all  the  birds  sung; 
"Shall  I  take  them  away?  "  said  the  Wind,  as  it  swung. 
"  No,  let  them  alone 
Till  the  berries  have  grown," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  its  leaflets,  quivering,  hung. 

The  Tree  bore  its  fruit  in  the  midsummer  glow ; 
Said  the  girl,  "  May  I  gather  thy  sweet  berries  now?  " 
"  Yes,  all  thou  canst  see ; 
Take  them;   all  are  for  thee," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  it  bent  its  laden  boughs  low. 

Bjorsterne  Bjornsen. 


The  Maple  Tree^s  Surprise. 

When  David  Wylie  went  to  live  in  the  country  he  did  not  know 
which  way  to  turn,  there  was  so  much  to  see  and  so  much  to  hear. 

He  coasted  on  the  snow,  and  skated  on  the  ice,  and  watched 
the  winter  birds,  and  helped  to  feed  the  horses  and  cows  and  hens 
and  chickens.     Just  back  of  the  house  was  a  grove  of  great  mapie 


260 


trees,  where  he  liked  to  play  when  the  snow  was  not  too  deep. 
In  the  midst  of  this  grove  was  a  small  log  house.  David  often 
asked  his  Papa  what  this  house  was  for,  and  Papa  always  replied : 
**  Wait  until  spring,  and  you  shall  see  ;  these  big  maple  trees  have 
a  surprise  in  store  for  you  ! ' ' 

One  morning  in  early  spring,  when  the  sun  shone  very  warm, 
and  the  snow  was  beginning  to  melt,  Papa  said:  ** David,  after 
breakfast  you  will  find  me  at  the  log  house ; "  then  he  hurried 
away.  David  soon  finished  his  breakfast  and  started  off  in  great 
haste,  but  stopped  short  at  the  first  maple  tree,  for  there  hung  a 
bright,  shining,  tin  pail !  He  wondered  how  it  came  there,  and 
started  to  take  it  down,  when  he  saw  that  it  was  hanging  on  a 
spout,  which  was  driven  into  the  tree-trunk.  From  the  spout  was 
trickling  something  which  looked  like  water  as  it  *'  drip,  dripped  " 
into  the  pail  below.  As  he  looked  about,  he  saw  that  every  tree 
in  the  grove  had  one,  two  or  even  three  pails  hung  on  spouts ! 
This  must  be  the  surprise,  but  what  was  it  for? 

Off  he  went  to  the  log  house  ;  and  there  he  found  that  his  father 
had  built  a  fire,  and  over  the  fire  was  swinging  a  great  iron  kettle. 
*'Papa,"  said  he,  **why  is  the  water  running  out  of  the  trees? 
What  is  the  kettle  for  ?  Why  have  you  built  the  fire  ?  "  *  *  Well, ' ' 
replied  Papa,  *'  I  am  very  busy,  but  here  comes  Mamma,  who  can 
tell  you  all  about  it,  while  you  watch  the  rest  of  us  work." 

Then  Mamma  told  him  how  the  maple  trees  had  been  sleeping 
and  resting  all  winter,  and  how  the  warm  sunshine  and  soft 
spring  rains  had  wakened  them,  and  set  the  sweet  sap  running 
from  the  roots  way  up  to  the  highest  branches.  *'  But  the  trees 
do  not  need  all  of  the  sap,"  said  Mamma,  *'  so  Papa  has  driven 
these  spouts  in,  that  he  may  catch  some  of  the  sap  as  it  hurries 
through  the  tree-trunk.  And  what  you  thought  was  water  was 
this  juice  or  sap  of  the  tree  trickling  into  the  pails."  Just  then 
up  came  two  or  three  men  with  buckets  full  of  sap  which  they 
had  gathered  from  the  tin  pails ;  they  poured  it  into  the  kettle, 
but  Papa  first  gave  Mamma  and  David  some  to  drink.  It  tasted 
like  water  with  a  little  sugar  in  it,  and  David  did  n't  care  for  it 
at  all. 

They  then  watched  the  sap  in  the  kettle  as  it  boiled  and  bub- 
bled away ;  and  every  little  while  Papa  skimmed  it  with  a  big 


GATHERING  SAP. 


261 


262 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


spoon,  till  by  and  by  it  was  clear.  David  said,  **  It  smells  like 
maple  syrup  !  "  and  Papa  replied,  "  That's  just  what  it  is  !  "  He 
next  poured  it  into  big  pans  and  little  pans,  and  middle-sized 
pans,  and  it  looked  thick  and  brown  and  sweet,  and  David  knew 
that  when  it  was  cool  and  hard  it  would  be  maple  sugar  ! 

Then  Mamma  said :  **  There  are  ever  so  many  kinds  of  maple 
trees,  but  only  this  kind  gives  us  sug*ar.  Now  what  do  you  suppose 
we  call  it?  "  David  thought  its  name  must  be  sugar-maple,  and 
sure  enough  it  was  !  And  now  he  wonders  if  there  are  any  other 
children  whom  the  sugar-maple  is  waiting  to  surprise. 

F.  E.  Mann. 


Pussy  Willow. 

Pussy  Willow  wakened 
From  her  "Winter  nap 

For  the  frolic  Spring  Breeze 
On  her  door  would  tap. 

"  It  is  chilly  weather 

Though  the  sun  feels  good; 
I  will  wrap  up  warmly; 
Wear  my  furry  hood. " 

Mistress  Pussy  Willow 
Opened  wide  her  door; 

Never  had  the  sunshine 
Seemed  so  bright  before. 

Never  had  the  brooklet 
Seemed  so  full  of  cheer; 
"  Good  morning,  Pussy  Willow, 
Welcome  to  you,  dear!  " 

Never  guest  was  quainter; — 

Pussy  came  to  town 
In  a  hood  of  silver  gray 

And  a  coat  of  brown. 

Happy  little  children 

Cried  with  laugh  and  shout, 
**  Spring  is  coming,  coming. 
Pussywillow's  out!  " 


Kate  L.  Brown. 


The  American  Teacher. 


SPRING. 


To  THE  Teacher  : — 

(The  prevalent  custom  of  talking  about  the  "  glad  new  day  "  and  it*  name 
each  morning,  otten  noting  also  the  current  month  and  year,  affords  an  easy 
opportunity  for  questioning  the  children  upon  the  whole  round  of  the  seasons, 
thus  leading  to  a  talk  upon  Spring. ) 


THE  TALK. 


Jack  Frost  and  North  Wind  will  soon  be  gone  altogether  and 
Winter  with  them.  How  has  the  earth  looked  during  the  Winter? 
The  ground  brown  and  hard,  or  covered  with  snow  and  ice,  trees 
leafless,  no  grass,  no  flowers,  few  birds.  But  Spring  is  coming. 
What  will  the  spring-time  bring?  Grass,  leaves  on  the  trees, 
pussywillows,  flowers,  birds,  etc.,  etc.  Will  the  flowers  come 
while  the  ground  is  frozen  and  the  air  so  cold?  What  will  thaw 
the  ground  and  warm  the  air?  Have  we  not  had  sunshine  all 
Winter?     Yes,  but  we  shall  have  more  sunshine  now. 

Do  you  remember  how  dark  it  was  in  the  Winter  mornings? 
Sometimes  we  needed  lamplight  or  gaslight  at  breakfast.  Perhaps 
you  remember,  too,  how  dark  the  Winter  afternoons  were ! 
Towards  Spring  we  have  sunshine  earlier  in  the  mornings  and 
later  in  the  afternoons,  so  that  the  days  are  longer  and  brighter 
and  warmer. 

What  will  the  warm  Spring  sunshine  do?  Can  sunshine  alone 
get  the  earth  ready  and  make  the  flowers  grow?  What  will  the 
rain  do?     Which  wind  brings  the  rain?     What  other  winds  are 


264 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


about  in  Spring?  What  is  the  name  of  the  wind  which  comes 
from  the  warm  lands?  Where  have  the  birds  been  all  Winter? 
Which  birds  are  the  first  to  come  back  to  us  in  the  Spring?  What 
will  they  be  busy  about  soon?  Did  you  know  that  birds  some- 
times like  to  weave  bits  of  string  or  worsted  in  with  the  grasses 
and  straws  of  which  they  make  their  nests?  (If  the  kindergarten 
is  in  a  likely  neighborhood  for  nest-building,  let  the  children 
place  some  bits  of  string  or  thread  where  the  birds  will  find  them.) 

Which  flowers  come  first?     Tell  the  colors  of  each. 

Are  we  glad  that  spring  is  coming? 

(Speak  of  the  gladness  the  season  brings  to  all ;  to  the  cai:cle 
whb  rejoice  in  going  to  the  fields  once  more  ;  to  the  birds  who  ?,i3 
so  happy  in  their  nest-building ;  to  the  animals  and  insects  v^ho 
have  been  curled  up  in  hiding  somewhere,  waiting  for  warm 
weather ;  even  to  the  fishes  who  leap  joyously  in  the  waters,  no 
longer  icebound. 

We  must  not  forget  to  sing  the  song  of  the  farmer  and  talk  a 
little  about  his  spring  work,  of  gathering  sap,  and  plowing  and 
planting.) 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


265 


TEACHER^S  READING. 


A  Year  of  Miracle, W.  C.  Gannett 

Spring  ("Sharp  Eyes"), W.  H.  Gibson 

April  ("  Birds  and  Poets  "), John  Burroughs 

t':  llTurnof  the  Birds, }   ('•W»>=«^-°''-'')'        '        '         Mn  Burrou^. 

Prologue  to  Canterbury  Tales,  \ rhnurpr 

The  Flower  and  the  Leaf,         J  ^naucer 

Grass,      ----------  Emily  Dickinson 

The  Voice  of  the  Grass,   --------    Sarah  Roberts 

Spring  ("In  Memoriam"),       --------  Tennyson 

Suthin'  in  the  Pastoral  Line,  'I _       Lowell 

To  the  Dandelion,  J 

Nature  and  the  Poets,      ---------         Keats 

Early  Spring,  ----------        Wordsworth 

Home  Thoughts  from  Abroad,  ------/?.  Browning 

Spring  has  Come,     -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -    O.  W.  Holmes 

Daffiy-down-dilly,     ----------      Warner 

The  Daffodils,  ----  ----        Wordsworth 

The  Daffodils, Herrick 

Mtr^ndr" ''"""}  ^''-^-'^ 

March,    -----------     Celia  Thaxter 

For  the  Children. 
My  Friend  in  Green,        .-----  Holmes'  Third  Reader 


STORIES, 


Spring  and  Her  Helpers* 

One  day  in  March  old  Winter  received  a  message  from  Father 
Time,  saying  that  Spring  was  ready  to  take  charge  of  the  land 
and  that  Winter  might  go  away  for  his  long  vacation,  as  soon  as 
he  liked. 

Winter  immediately  pulled  out  his  pocket  calendar.  "  Surely, 
surely,"  said  he,  **I  must  be  off  in  a  day  or  two.     I  suppose 


266  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

every  one  -will  be  glad/*  he  continued,  a  little  mournfully ;  *'  they 
are  alway  in  a  hurry  for  me  to  go  !  " 

"But  they  are  glad  to  see  you  come  again/*  -whistled  North 
Wind.  "  Don't  you  remember  how  joyful  the  children  were  over 
the  first  snow  and  ice  ?  And  how  glad  the  plants  were  to  have  a 
chance  to  rest?  And  how  sleepy  some  of  the  animals  were  get- 
ting? They  would  miss  you  dreadfully  if  you  didn't  take  your 
turn — even  more  than  they  know,  perhaps." 

"Very  true,  friend,"  said  old  Winter,  brightening.  "Spring 
and  Summer  and  Autumn  could  not  do  their  work  if  I  neglected 
mine.  So  I'll  go  as  soon  as  Spring  appears,  and  rest  and  be  ready 
to  come  back  in  December." 

A  few  days  after  this  Winter  started  on  his  journey,  and 
Spring  became  the  ruler  of  the  land.  Scarcely  any  one  realized 
the  change  at  the  time,  for  many  of  Winter's  belongings  were 
left  lying  about,  and  Spring  could  not  do  her  work  all  at  once. 
Nor  could  she  do  it  without  help,  for  her  work  was  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  to  make  the  earth  beautiful,  and  Winter  had  cer- 
tainly left  it  looking  very  bare  and  dreary.  But  I  assure  you 
Spring  knew  whom  to  ask  for  help.  First  she  went  to  the  Sun. 
"  Good  Sun,"  said  she,  "pray,  send  me  more  and  more  of  your 
light  and  heat  every  day,  if  you  will ;  for  the  earth  is  hard  and 
bare  and  cold." 

The  great  Sun  said  not  a  word,  but  smiled  brighly  from  his 
home  of  golden  fire,  for  great  companies  of  his  messengers,  the 
sunbeams,  had  already  trooped  down  to  the  earth  with  permis- 
sion to  go  earlier  each  morning  and  stay  later  each  night,  that 
they  might  help  Spring  to  make  the  earth  beautiful. 

But  Spring  knew  that  she  and  the  sunbeams  could  not  do  it 
all.  So  she  spoke  to  King  ^olus.  "Good  -^olus,"  said  she, 
"North  Wind  has  served  Winter  well,  but  he  cannot  do  my 
kind  of  work.  I  pray  you  keep  him  at  home  now  and  let  me 
have  his  three  brothers — the  gentle  South  Wind  to  be  with  me 
most  of  the  time,  and  East  Wind  and  West  Wind  to  help  when  I 
need  them.' 

King  -^olus  had  been  expecting  this  request,  for  Spring  made 
it  every  year ;  and  there  was  already  a  great  bustle  in  his  rocky 
caverns  as  the  three  brothers  began  to  bestir  themselves.     South 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  267 

Wind  sent  a  little  breeze  as  a  messenger  to  Spring,  to  say  that 
they  would  be  ready  whenever  she  called  them,  and  would  gladly 
help  her  to  make  the  earth  beautiful. 

Then  began  a  busy  time  indeed  for  Spring  and  her  helpers. 

The  sunbeams  worked  with  never  a  sound.  They  shone  here 
and  they  shone  there.  They  melted  the  ice  and  snow,  and 
coaxed  vapor  from  the  surface  of  the  water  and  carried  it  up  to 
the  blue  sky,  where  it  floated  in  downy  white  clouds.  They 
warmed  the  earth  and  gilded  the  waters  and  made  the  sky  bluer 
than  ever. 

The  Winds  worked,  too,  each  in  his  own  way.  When  Spring 
saw  that  rain  was  needed,  she  called  East  Wind,  and  he  imme- 
diately emptied  the  clouds  of  all  that  the  sunbeams  had  saved. 
''People  make  a  great  mistake  when  they  think  that  the  sun- 
beams and  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  each  other,"  said  he  ;  **  for 
if  the  sunbeams  didn't  bring  up  the  vapor  for  me,  and  if  I 
didn't  empty  the  clouds  for  them,  how  would  the  earth  have 
rain,  I  wonder?  To  be  sure,  I  always  carry  some  with  me,  but  I 
should  not  have  enough  without  that  which  is  stored  away  in 
the  clouds." 

East  Wind  hovered  about,  seeming  to  be  everywhere  at  once 
in  his  big  gray  cloak,  while  the  raindrops  were  hurrying  down 
to  the  earth.  They  ran  here  and  they  rolled  there.  They 
softened  the  ground,  they  gave  water  to  all  the  thirsty  roots, 
helped  the  trees  and  other  plants  to  make  their  sap,  washed  the 
dust  off  of  everything  and  filled  up  the  little  brooks.  The  rain- 
drops also  unfastened  the  coats  of  the  seeds  that  were  in  the 
ground,  and  loosened  the  covers  of  the  pussy  willows  and  the 
furry  hoods  which  the  ferns  had  worn  all  winter ;  and,  with  their 
tapping  and  drumming,  they  really  awakened  the  grasses  and 
some  of  the  flowers,  but  the  sleepy  things  only  stirred  a  little, 
saying  drowsily  :  ''Spring  does  not  want  us  to  get  up  yet ;  it  is 
too  cold  and  too  early." 

Spring  herself  shivered  a  little  whenever  East  Wind  was 
around,  but  he  and  the  raindrops  were  so  useful  that  she  bore 
the  cold  and  dampness  very  willingly.  "  Thanks,  little  Rain- 
drops, and  to  you,  too.  East  Wind,"  said  she.  "You  have  done 
your  work  well.     And  now  the  sunbeams  must  take  their  turn 


268  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

again.  South  Wind,  too,  will  find  something  to  do,  I  dare  say." 
South  Wind  was  ready  at  the  first  mention  of  his  name.  He 
had  come  by  way  of  the  sunny  lands  where  the  birds  live  in  the 
winter,  and  had  brought  a  few  back  with  him — two  or  three 
bluebirds  and  robins. 

**You  dear  things,"  said  Spring,  caressingly.  *'I  can  work 
so  much  better  now  that  you  have  come.  Your  singing  cheers 
me  on.  Fly  abroad  now,  and  let  the  people  hear  your  glad  songs 
and  catch  a  glimpse  of  you  now  and  then." 

Spring  gazed  fondly  after  them.  **  Robin  is  such  a  cheery 
fellow,"  said  she;  **and  Bluebird  is  so  bonny  in  his  sky-tinted 
feathers.  No  other  birds  are  quite  as  dear  to  me,  and  I  am  sure 
they  carry  joy  wherever  they  go." 

**The  joy  they  give  is  because  they  sing  of  you,"  whispered 
South  Wind. 

While  Spring  welcomed  the  birds.  South  Wind  had  not  been 
idle.  His  first  work  was  to  roll  up  the  big  gray  cloak  which 
East  Wind  was  trailing  after  him. 

'*Take  that  with  you,  please,  brother,"  said  he;  **I  have  no 
use  for  it,  and,  in  fact,  it  is  rather  in  my  way."  After  that  he 
and  the  sunbeams  worked  together,  warming  and  drying  the  air 
and  the  ground,  and  coaxing  all  the  growing  things  to  make 
haste. 

The  South  Wind  whistled  sweet,  merry  little  tunes,  while  the 
sunbeams  touched  the  seeds  and  the  half-awake  leaves  and 
flowers,  and  they  started  up,  one  after  another,  fresher  and  pret- 
tier than  ever  **  from  their  long,  long  wintry  nap." 

But  Spring's  work  was  not  yet  finished.  She  called  for  West 
Wind.  He  knew  just  what  to  do,  and  he  did  it  well.  He  blew 
here  and  he  blew  there.  He  swept  the  hillsides  and  meadows, 
and  took  away  the  old  leaves  which  had  been  such  useful 
blankets  for  the  plants  all  winter.  Then  he  and  the  sunbeams, 
for  they  always  work  with  him,  went  into  the  farthest  corner  of 
the  woods  and  dried  the  soaked  mosses  and  tree  trunks,  and 
greeted  the  bears,  woodchucks  and  squirrels  who  were  running 
about  to  stretch  themselves  after  keeping  still  all  winter.  West 
Wind  whistled  a  louder  and  jollier  tune  than  South  Wind  had. 
The  sunbeams  shone  their  brightest ;  the  smooth  waters  flashed 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD.  269 

splendor ;  the  rushing  streams  murmured  music ;  fishes  darted 
about  under  the  clear  ripples ;  frogs  sang  their  gurgling  song ; 
insects  sported  joyously  in  the  air,  and  birds  warbled  to  each 
other  everywhere. 

Spring  looked  and  listened,  and  looked  again  over  the  land 
which  Winter  had  left  so  bare  and  silent  and  dreary.  Soft,  green 
grass  covered  the  ground  and  blossoms  beautified  the  orchards, 
while  on  every  tree  tiny  leaf-banners  fluttered  and  rustled.  All 
her  pretty  flowers — and  who  has  prettier  flowers  than  Spring? — 
stood  in  their  places — daffodils,  crocuses,  tulips,  dandelions, 
violets — none  was  missing. 

Spring  gazed  with  joy.  Her  work  was  done,  for  the  world 
was  radiant  with  beauty. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


The  Meeting  of  the  Winds. 

The  North  and  the  South  Winds  met  one  day  in  a  field  beside 
a  river.  The  North  Wind  had  brought  some  snow  the  night 
before,  but  the  South  Wind  blew  soon  after,  and  melted  nearly  all 
of  it.  Only  a  few  white  patches  were  left,  here  and  there,  along 
the  sunny  banks  of  the  stream. 

As  soons  as  the  winds  came  near  each  other,  the  South  Wind 
said;  '*  Good  morning,  brother;  I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  though 
your  cold  breath  quite  chills  me." 

**But  I  am  not  glad  to  meet  you,"  answered  the  North  Wind. 
**  Why  did  you  melt  my  snow  so  quickly?  Could  you  not  let  it 
lie  for  one  day?" 

"The  time  has  come  for  the  grass  and  flowers,  you  know, 
brother,  and  I  must  be  at  work,"  said  the  gentle  South  Wind. 

"  There  was  no  need  of  such  haste,"  said  the  burly  North 
Wind.     "When  friends  meet,  they  should  be  polite." 

"I  have  to  call  up  the  daisies  and  waken  the  roses,"  said  the 
South  Wind,  "  and  make  all  the  fields  green  by  the  first  of  May  ; 
I  have  no  time  to  lose.  Look  at  yonder  meadow,  how  brown  it 
is ;  and  at  these  trees,  how  bare  !     Scarcely  a  fly  is  buzzing  in  the 


270  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

sunshine,  and  not  a  tortoise  has  yet  crept  out  of  his  hole  in  the 
ground." 

"I  do  not  care  for  your  daisies  and  your  tortoises,"  muttered 
the  North  Wind ;  **you  want  to  hurry  me  off,  byt  I  will  not  go 
so  soon." 

*'Have  you  not  had  the  whole  winter  to  yourself?  "  asked  the 
South  Wind — '*  freezing  the  brooks,  driving  away  all  my  birds 
and  butterflies,  and  covering  the  fields  and  roads  and  bushes  and 
bams  with  snow?  If  I  chanced  to  come  then  to  pay  you  a  little 
visit  some  bright  morning,  how  quickly  you  drove  me  away 
again !     Never  might  I  stay  till  the  sun  went  down." 

"  The  winter  is  my  time,"  said  the  North  Wind ;  **  it  belongs 
to  me,  and  you  had  no  right  to  come  then." 

**  And  the  spring  is  my  time,"  said  the  South  Wind;  *'you 
know  the  law  is  that  I  must  have  the  fields  now." 

**  You  think  a  great  deal  of  yourself,"  said  the  North  Wind, 
angrily,  **  but  I  am  stronger  than  you.  I  can  fly  farther  and  see 
things  you  never  see.  Where  do  you  think  I  came  from  this 
morning?  " 

*'  Tell  me  ;  I  cannot  guess,"  whispered  the  South  Wind. 

"I  came  all  the  way  from  the  icy  pole,  where  the  sea  is  frozen 
over,  and  the  land  is  covered  with  snow  that  never  melts.  The 
white  bear  lives  there  ;  I  saw  one  but  a  few  hours  ago,  watching 
for  fish  by  a  hole  that  he  had  broken  through  the  ice." 

**  But  you  never  saw  my  home  or  the  strange  sights  that  are 
there,"  said  the  South  Wind.  **  I  come  from  the  far-off  torrid 
zone,  where  the  snow  never  falls,  and  the  frost  never  kills  the 
buds  and  flowers.  There  the  panther  lives.  I  passed  by  one 
last  night  in  the  forest,  lying  out  on  the  branch  of  a  great  tree 
watching  for  his  prey,  that  he  might  spring  down  on  it  as  it 
passed  beneath." 

"  But  I  see  the  Esquimaux,"  answered  the  North  Wind,  *'  in 
their  strange  skin  dresses,  living  in  houses  of  snow.  They  fight 
the  fierce  walrus  on  the  ice,  and  spear  the  fur-covered  seal  from 
their  little  boats  that  dance  on  the  waves.  I  watch  the  Northern 
Lights,  so  red  and  beautiful,  shooting  up  like  bright  flames  in 
the  sky,  and  the  night  is  almost  as  bright  as  the  day.  Then  the 
Esquimau  harnesses  his  dogs  and  the  Laplander  his  reindeer,  and 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  271 

they  travel  swiftly  over  the  frozen  plain.  Yesterday  I  blew  with 
all  my  might  until  I  loosened  a  field  of  ice  and  sent  it  out  to  sea. 
A  white  bear  was  on  it,  and  he  sailed  on  his  ice-boat  across  the 
sea  to  Iceland.  As  I  passed  the  steep,  high  rocks  on  the  shores 
of  Greenland,  I  saw  the  eider  ducks  brooding  there.  Each  one 
had  lined  her  nest  with  soft  down  plucked  from  her  own  breast. 
Then  I  frightened  them  with  my  hoarse  voice,  and  thousands  of 
them — yes,  hundreds  of  thousands — rose  up  in  the  air  like  a 
cloud." 

"But  let  me  ask  you,"  murmured  the  South  Wind,  ''did  you 
ever  hear  among  your  icebergs  and  frozen  waters,  the  song  of 
the  oriole  and  mocking  bird  that  I  hear  every  day  in  the  woods 
where  I  live?  You  look  at  your  Esquimaux  in  their  snow 
houses,  but  I  peep  in  at  the  hut  of  the  Indian  that  stands  under 
the  forest  shades,  or  I  blow  against  the  sail  of  his  canoe  and  waft 
it  up  some  quiet  river,  where  the  trees  grow  thick  on  each  side 
and  meet  overhead.  The  red  flamingo  wades  out  into  the  water, 
and  the  monkeys  and  parrots  chatter  among  the  high  branches. 
I  see  the  boa  constrictor  coiled  among  the  roots  on  the  shore  and 
watch  the  alligator  floating  down  the  stream.  My  home  is 
among  the  orange  trees  and  in  the  flelds  where  the  sugar  cane 
grows.  There  I  lie  still  and  sleep,  or  wake  to  go  forth  on  my 
journeys  over  the  earth,  not  to  freeze  up  the  ground  and  make 
barren  and  bare,  but  to  cover  it  with  green,  and  bring  out  the 
buds  and  flowers  in  every  bush  and  tree." 

While  the  Winds  were  talking  in  this  way,  the  River,  which 
had  been  listening  to  them,  said  :  *  *  Why  do  you  thus  boast  and 
provoke  each  other?  Why  not  speak  gently  and  kindly  of  the 
wonderful  things  you  have  seen?  You  would  not  change  homes, 
would  you?  " 

**No,  indeed,"  each  one  replied;  "I  love  my  own  the  best." 

*'Then,"  said  the  River,  **what  good  can  come  of  disputing 
when  both  are  satisfied?  As  for  me,  I  love  you  both.  I  am 
glad  for  the  North  Wind  to  blow  cold,  and  cover  me  with  ice  in 
the  winter,  so  that  the  merry  skaters  can  come  and  glide  swiftly 
over  my  smooth  surface.  And  I  love  the  South  Wind  to  breathe 
softly  in  the  spring,  and  make  my  banks  smooth  again,  and  waken 
the  frogs  along  my  shore,  and  bring  the  fisherman  in  his  boat, 


272  IN  THE  child's  world. 

and  the  boys  to  swim.  Let  us  all  be  friends,  then,  and  love  each 
other,  and  be  satisfied  with  what  our  good  Creator  has  given  us, 
and  be  happy  in  pleasing  him." 

Then  the  North  Wind  said  :  **  I  am  willing  to  be  friends  again. 
It  is  true  that  the  Spring  is  your  time,  gentle  South  Wind.  I 
will  not  stay  to  nip  your  opening  flowers,  but  will  fly  away  to 
my  cold  home." 

And  the  South  Wind  said  :  '*  Forgive  me  if  I  was  rude,  brother. 
When  November  shall  come  once  more,  I  will  leave  the  fields 
and  woods  to  you.  Take  this  sprig  of  evergreen  to  remember  me 
by,  and  may  it  not  fade  until  we  meet  again.     Farewell." 

Charles  Foster. 

''New  Lights  on  Old  Paths,''  Chas.  Foster  Pub.  Co.,  Phila.,  Pa. 


The  Little  Worm  That  Was  Glad  to  Be  Alive^ 

Once  there  was  a  little  worm  about  as  long  as  the  nail  of  my 
thumb,  and  no  larger  round  than  a  big  darning  needle.  This 
little  worm  lived  in  a  little  house  that  he  had  made  for  himself 
in  the  ground,  just  big  enough  to  hold  him  when  he  rolled  him- 
self up  like  a  little  ball  with  his  head  sticking  out.  There  were 
no  windows  nor  doors  in  his  house,  except  one  on  top  which  was 
his  door  to  go  in  at  and  his  window  to  look  out  of.  When  he 
had  made  this  house  he  was  tired,  and  crawled  into  it  and  curled 
himself  up  and  went  to  sleep  and  slept  all  night. 

In  the  morning  the  sun  rose  and  spread  his  beams  all  over  the 
world,  and  one  of  the  bright  sunbeams  shone  into  the  window 
of  the  little  worm's  house  and  touched  his  eyes*  and  waked  him, 
and  he  popped  up  his  head  and  looked  out  and  saw  that  it  was 
very  pleasant  in  the  garden,  and  he  thought  to  go  out  to  walk. 

*  The  following  quotations  are  for  the  help  of  the  teacher  who  wishes  to 
make  Miss  Peabody's  exquisite  story  truer  to  nature: 

"  As  these  animals  have  no  eyes,  we  must  suppose  that  the  light  passes 
through  their  skins,  and  in  some  manner  excites  their  cerebral  ganglia." 

"  Worms  are  poorly  provided  with  sense  organs,  for  they  cannot  be  said  to  see, 
although  they  can  just  distinguish  between  light  and  darkness;  they  are  com- 
pletely deaf,  and  have  only  a  feeble  power  of  smell ;  the  sense  of  touch  alone  is 
well  developed." 

Charles  Darwin. 

From  "  Tie  Formation  of  Vegetable  Mould  through  the  Action  of  Worms. '^ 


THE  BOY  RAN  ON  THE  OTHER  SIDE  OF  THE  PATH, 


274  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

He  squirmed  himself  up  out  of  his  hole,  and,  because  he  had 
no  feet,  he  crept  along  the  garden  path.  The  warm  beams  of 
the  sun  put  their  arms  all  around  his  cold  little  body  and  made  it 
as  warm  as  could  be,  and  the  sunbeams  went  into  his  little  mites 
of  eyes  and  filled  him  all  full  of  light,  and  the  songs  of  the  birds 
went  into  his  little  mites  of  ears  and  filled  him  all  up  with  music, 
and  the  sweet  smell  of  hundreds  of  flowers  went  up  that  little 
mite  of  a  nose  and  filled  him  up  with  their  perfumes.  And  sc 
the  little  worm  went  creeping  along,  as  glad  as  he  could  be  that 
he  was  alive. 

Now  in  the  house  that  stood  in  that  garden  lived  a  little  boy 
about  four  years  old ;  and  when  the  morning  came,  the  sunbeams 
had  gone  into  the  window  of  his  nursery  and  waked  him,  and  he 
was  washed  and  dressed,  and  had  his  breakfast  of  bread  and 
milk,  and  then  his  mamma  took  him  to  the  door  that  led  down 
the  steps  to  the  piazza  into  the  garden,  and  told  him  he  might 
go  down  the  path  and  have  a  good  run  to  make  himself  warm. 
So  down  he  ran. 

Now,  if  that  little  boy  should  put  his  strong  foot  on  that  dear 
little  worm,  it  would  break  him  all  to  pieces ;  but  that  little  boy 
would  not  do  such  a  cruel  thing  for  the  world  !  He  saw  the  little 
worm  creeping  along,  so  glad  to  be  alive,  and  he  ran  on  the 
other  side  of  the  path ;  and  the  little  worm  nibbled  a  blade  of 
grass  and  drank  a  little  dew  for  his  breakfast,  and  then  he  felt 
tired,  and  went  creeping  back,  full  of  good  food,  to  the  little 
hole  that  was  his  home,  and  curled  himself  up  like  a  little  ball 
and  went  to  sleep. 

Elizabeth  P.  Peabody. 

In  "  Lectures  to  Kindergartners,''  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co. 


A  Surprise* 

Mr.  Chipmunk  was  playing  among  the  trees  one  lovely  autumn 
day,  when  he  came  across  such  a  pile  of  delicious  looking  acorns  ! 

"  What  a  feast !  "  he  cried.  **I'll  cover  these  acorns  and  keep 
them  until  spring,  for  I  have  nuts  enough  in  my  storeroom  for 
my  winter's  use  ;  when  they  are  gone  1*11  come  for  these." 


IN  THE  CHILD*S  WORLD.  275 

The  little  acorns  heard  him  talking  to  himself,  and  laughed 
softly :  **  Ha,  ha,  Mr.  Chipmunk  !  Spring  is  along  way  off,  and 
you  cannot  be  so  sure  of  finding  your  acorns  then.  Mother  Oak 
Tree  has  told  us  that  if  we  go  to  bed  like  good  children,  and  lie 
very  still,  something  beautiful  and  wonderful  will  happen  to  us 
when  the  warm  spring  days  come.'* 

The  little  acorns  lay  very  quiet  where  Mr.  Chipmunk  had  put 
them.  Soon  they  could  hear  the  cold  winds  blowing,  but  the 
brilliant  leaves,  falling,  made  a  beautiful  warm  coverlet  for  them. 

Then  Jack  Frost  came,  and  the  snow  fell  softly  on  their  bed 
like  white  wool.  The  wind  singing  through  the  trees,  lulled 
them  to  sleep,  and  they  had  a  long,  long  nap. 

When  they  awoke  it  was  warm  and  sunny. 

*'It  must  be  nearly  time  for  us  to  throw  off  these  heavy 
blankets  and  stretch  up  where  we  can  see  the  sky,  for  I  can  feel 
the  sun's  warm  rays,"  said  one.  '  **And  I  can  move!''  cried 
another.  *'0h!"  exclaimed  a  third,  "1  have  burst  by  brown 
shell,  and  now  I  am  reaching  up  ! " 

Soon  the  little  roots  had  grown  down  deep  into  the  earth,  and 
the  tiny  green  shoots  had  pushed  their  way  through  the  dark- 
ness to  a  bright,  glorious  world — a  world  very  different  from  the 
cold,  dark  earth  they  had  known  before  ! 

There  were  beautiful  flowers  and  green  grasses  all  around 
them  and  tiny  new  leaves  on  the  trees,  and  birds  singing  on  the 
branches,  and  the  acorn  shoots  hardly  knew  Mother  Oak  Tree, 
she  was  so  gay  in  her  new  spring  gown  of  green. 

The  little  shoots  were  very  happy,  for  they  knew  that  they 
were  to  grow  taller  and  more  beautiful  each  year,  like  their 
grand  and  stately  mother  who  stood  near  by. 

Mr.  Chipmunk  came  running  along  one  day  soon  after  this, 
looking  for  his  acorns.  When  he  reached  the  place  where  the 
baby  oaks  grew  he  looked  in  amazement,  for  he  was  sure  that 
they  stood  in  the  very  spot  where  he  had  hidden  his  nuts. 

"Well,"  he  said,  after  thinking  along,  long  time,  **  perhaps 
seme  hungry  little  chipmunk  found  my  acorns  and  carried  them 
home.  But  who  -Dan  have  put  all  these  green  things  here,  I 
wonder?  " 

Sue  Clarke  Kimball. 


FRIEDRICH  FROEBEL. 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

The  most  appealing  and  expressive  image  of  Froebel  which  has  been 
preserved  for  us  is  that  of  the  tall  old  man,  with  long  gray  hair  parted  in  the 
middle,  his  old-fashioned  attire  adding  to  the  plainness  of  his  aspect,  lead- 
ing a  troop  of  village  children  up  on  the  hill  to  play — he  himself  being  a 
very  child  in  simplicity  and  freedom  as  he  joined  in  the  game,  while  yet  a  seer 
in  discernment  of  its  meaning  and  a  priest  in  ardent  devotion  to  his  purpose 
and  principles. 

But  we  have  other  interesting  portraiture  of  the  founder  of  the  kindergarten, 
delineated  by  his  contemporaries;  and  if  we  turn  our  gaze  toward  these 
images  of  Froebel  from  time  to  time,  we  shall  find  ourselves  doing  his  work 
in  fuller  sympathy  and  with  quickened  comprehension.  The  lonely,  unhappy 
little  child,  perplexed  at  the  discords  in  the  lives  about  him,  is  a  sad  picture. 
But  how  noble  the  lesson  so  plainly  taught  when  we  read  how  the  remembrance 
of  the  ungratified  longing  of  his  own  early  life  bore  the  fruit  of  plans  for 
the  amelioration  of  such  ills  in  the  lives  of  other  children. 

So,  too,  his  glimpse  of  the  harmony  and  beauty  of  nature,  disclosed  by  an 
elder  brother,  was  remembered  for  the  benefit  of  childhood,  and  his  system, 
based  upon  natural  laws,  keeps  the  child  in  close  and  loving  communion  with 
nature.  Froebel  was  extremely  fond  of  flowers,  even  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
when  he  asked  for  them  toward  the  very  last.  He  had  before  said  to  some  of 
his  friends:  "Take  care  of  my  flowers,  and  spare  my  weeds — I  have  learned 
much  from  them."  The  sunset  was  a  favorite  sight  and  alnwst  every  evening 
he  resorted  to  a  hilltop  to  gaze  at  the  trailing  splendor  of  the  departing  light. 
Indeed,  Froebel  was  keenly  sensitive  to  all  beauty,  whether  in  nature  or  art. 
It  is  related  that  although  he  was  usually  quite  obscure  in  the  presentation  of 
his  theories  of  education,  yet  that  when  speaking  to  the  Grand  Duke  of  Weimar 
upon  them  he  succeeded  in  stating  them  with  great  clearness,  and  attributed 
this  success  to  the  beautiful  architecture  of  the  dining  hall  with  its  marble 
pillars  and  vaulted  roof.     "  I  felt  as  if  I  were  in  a  temple,"  he  said,  afterwards. 

This  sensitiveness  was  not  confined  to  beautiful  sights  alone.  Froebel 
perceived  with  extreme  keenness  and  enjoyment  the  distinctive  fragrance  of 
wines,  food  and  plants.  A  man  whose  senses  were  less  delicate  might  perhaps 
have  omitted  from  his  scheme  of  education  the  special  cultivation  of  the  senses, 
not  realizing  the  value  and  pleasure  derived  from  such  cultivation. 


"THE  SUNSET  WAS  A  FAVORITE  SIGHT/'  277 


278  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

Thus  whatever  he  had  or  lacked  tended  toward  the  perfecting  of  his  educa- 
tional plans  and  was  made  to  serve  the  good  of  others. 

His  love  of  children  always  aroused  a  corresponding  love  on  their  part. 
They  would  run  to  meet  him  in  the  village  streets,  clinging  to  him  and  follow- 
ing him  about.  "I  see  in  every  child  the  possibility  of  a  perfect  man/' he 
said  to  the  Baroness  Von  Bulow.  What  a  rebuke  to  the  hopelessness  which 
sometimes  attacks  us  concerning  some  small  reprobate  ! 

Froebel's  estimation  of  the  requirements  of  a  teacher  were  very  high,  and 
he  felt  himself  so  far  below  his  own  standard  that  he  returned  to  the  Univer- 
sity at  Gottingen  for  more  study,  having  saved  a  little  money;  and  again,  after 
the  close  of  the  war,  in  which  he  served,  we  find  him  in  the  mineralogical 
'museum  at  Berlin,  resuming  his  studies  that  he  may  be  better  fitted  for  teach- 
ing. He  craved  classical  and  scientific  knowledge;  and  history,  anthropology, 
theoretical  pedagogy  and  ethics  attracted  him  no  less  strongly.  He  labored 
indefatigably  to  repair  any  defects  in  his  own  education.  His  humility  was 
beautiful,  making  him  ready  to  confess  ignorance  and  to  learn  from  everything 
and  everybody — even  from  his  normal  pupils  or  kindergarten  children — con- 
cerning some  new  application  of  his  idea,  although  the  idea  itself  he  guarded 
as  a  sacred  trust. 

To  a  man  of  Froebel's  gentle  nature  and  peaceful  habits  the  soldier's  life 
could  not  have  been  attractive;  nevertheless  patriotism  led  him  to  respond  to  a 
call  for  soldiers,  although  there  were  various  reasons  why  he  need  not  have 
served.  He  felt  it  his  duty  the  more  strongly  in  his  capacity  as  teacher,  for  as 
he  says:  "It  was  hardly  possible  for  me  to  conceive  how  any  young  man, 
capable  of  bearing  arms,  could  think  of  becoming  an  educator  of  children 
whose  country  he  would  not  defend  with  his  blood  or  his  life.  It  was  impossi- 
ble for  me  to  imagine  how  a  young  man  who  should  not  be  ashamed  then  to 
hang  back  like  a  coward,  could  later,  without  shame,  and  without  incurring  the 
scorn  and  derision  of  his  pupils,  stir  them  to  any  great  thing,  to  any  action 
requiring  eflEort  or  self-sacrifice." 

During  this  soldier  life  a  friendship  of  the  most  fervent  and  enduring  kind 
was  formed  with  two  of  his  comrades,  one  of  whom  afterwards  continued  Froe- 
bel's work.  This  friend,  MiddendorfiE,  relates  an  interesting  anecdote  of  this 
time:  "  Once  when  their  Jager  corps  was  lying  in  a  ditch  behind  a  hedge,  and 
under  fire  of  the  eneniy,  whose  balls  were  passing  over  them,  Froebel  turned 
to  MiddendorfE,  who  was  lying  behind  him,  and  asked  him  whether  he  knew 
how  many  seconds  faster  musket  bullets  moved  than  the  balls  from  the  flint 
locks.  While  he  was  in  immediate  danger  of  his  life,  Froebel  had  the  coolness 
to  solve  this  mathematical  problem."  The  secret  of  this  intrepidity  was  proba- 
bly in  Froebel's  conception  of  death,  which  he  defined  as  "  an  enlargement 
of  life." 

Another  anecdote  which  MiddendorfiE  tells  shows  Froebel's  simple  and 
generous  impulsiveness.  "  Froebel  came  home  one  day  much  heated  by 
a  walk  in  the  neighborhood,  and  wished  to  change  his  clothes.  When 
his    wife  opened  the   wardrobe  she   exclaimed  with    alarm:   'The    closet  is 


m  THE  child's  world.  279 

almost  empty!  Thieves  have  been  here.'  Froebel  answered,  laughing: 
'  I  am  the  thief.'  And  then  he  told  her  that  the  inhabitants  of  a  neighboring 
village  which  had  been  destroyed  by  lire  had  been  there  that  morning  and 
asked  for  assistance,  and  as  he  had  no  money,  he  felt  obliged  to  give  them 
some  of  his  effects." 

One  cannot  wonder  that  such  a  man  did  not  achieve  financial  success 
in  life.  He  was  surely  akin  to  our  own  Agassiz,  who  had  "  no  time  to  make 
money,"  and  who  preserved  under  all  circumstances  the  integrity  of  his  life- 
purpose — "the  ennobling  of  humanity." 


THE   TALK. 

(Call  attention  to  the  things  which  make  the  kindergarten 
room  attractive — the  windows  where  the  merry  sunshine  enters, 
the  plants,  birds  or  fishes,  if  any,  the  flag,  the  children's  work, 
which  is  often  an  effective  decoration  and  one  much  appreciated 
by  them,  and  to  the  pictures.) 

To-day  we  will  talk  about  Froebel,  for  his  birthday  is  coming 
in  a  few  days,  and  all  the  little  kindergarten  children  should 
know  about  him. 

Do  you  remember  how  the  bells  were  rung  and  the  guns  fired 
and  the  flags  were  put  out  on  Washington's  birthday?  Froebel' s 
birthday  will  not  be  kept  in  that  way,  but  we  will  have  a  happy 
time  in  kindergarten,  because  it  was  Froebel  who  thought  about 
the  kindergarten  and  planned  it  all. 

Washington  lived  in  what  country?  In  America — the  country 
we  live  in  and  sing  about  when  we  sing  **My  country,  'tis  of 
thee."  Froebel  lived  in  Germany,  a  land  away  over  the  sea,  so 
he  was  a  German.  He  loved  little  children,  and  wanted  them 
to  grow  strong  and  wise  and  good,  and  so  he  thought  of  having 
kindergartens  where  they  could  work  and  play  and  learn  and  be 
happy. 

What  do  you  like  to  do  in  kindergarten?  (Draw  out  as  many 
expressions  as  you  can  from  the  children,  and  tell  them  that 
Froebel  planned  all  these  pleasant  things.) 

Would  you  like  to  hear  some  stories  about  him? 

When  Friedrich  Froebel  was  a  little  boy  he  was  very  lonely. 


280  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

His  brothers  were  away  from  home,  so  there  were  no  children 
to  play  with  him;  and,  worse  than  that,  he  had  no  mother  to 
love  him  and  take  care  of  him.  He  had  a  father,  but  his  father 
was  a  very  busy  man,  and  did  not  have  time  to  play  with  his 
little  boy  or  to  talk  to  him  very  much.  Do  you  not  think  poor 
little  Friedrich  must  have  been  very  lonely? 

He  used  to  look  out  of  the  window,  and  see  the  men  at  work 
on  a  church  which  was  near  his  home,  and  as  he  watched  them 
he  wanted  to  build  something,  too ;  but  he  had  no  blocks,  so  he 
tried  to  build  with  the  chairs  and  footstools  and  such  things 
which  were  in  the  room.  But  poor  little  Friedrich  !  He  was  so 
little  that  the  chairs  were  heavy  and  clumsy  for  him,  and,  be- 
sides they  fell  over  as  often  as  he  tried  to  put  them  on  top  of 
each  other.     He  could  not  build  nicely  with  them  at  all. 

By  and  by,  when  he  was  grown  up,  he  remembered  this  and 
planned  nice,  smooth  blocks  for  little  children,  so  that  they 
could  build  churches,  or  gates,  or  towers,  or  pigeon  houses,  or 
anything  they  liked. 

When  Friedrich  was  ten  years  old  he  went  to  live  with  his 
uncle,  who  loved  him  dearly.  Here  he  went  to  school  and  had  a 
great  many  playmates,  so  he  was  not  unhappy  and  lonely  as  he 
had  been  before. 

After  this  he  had  to  go  to  work.  He  wanted  to  be  a  farmer 
because  he  liked  to  be  out  of  doors  and  plant  things  and  watch 
their  growing ;  but  he  learned  to  be  a  surveyor,  too,  and  was  also 
a  soldier  for  a  while. 

At  one  time  the  soldiers  had  to  march  a  long  way  in  the  hot 
sun  and  grew  so  tired  that  they  threw  everything  they  could  out 
of  their  knapsacks  to  make  them  less  heavy  to  carry.  Froebel 
was  tired,  too,  but  as  he  walked  along  he  noticed  many  beautiful 
and  interesting  things,  as  he  always  did  when  out  of  doors. 
When  he  saw  curious  stones  or  pretty  mosses  or  flowers  or  leaves, 
he  picked  them  up  and  put  them  in  his  knapsack.  The  stones 
were  heavy,  of  course,  but  Froebel  wanted  to  study  them  as 
well  as  the  mosses  and  flowers.  When  the  soldiers  reached  their 
resting  place  Froebel  took  out  all  his  treasures  and  showed  them 
to  the  other  men,  and  they  all  enjoyed  hearing  his  wonderful 
stories  about  the  plants  and  rocks. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


281 


After  he  had  been  a  soldier,  Froebel  became  a  teacher ;  and 
then  it  was  that  he  planned  the  kindergarten.  Shall  you  not 
like  to  talk  about  him  and  sing  a  birthday  song  about  him? 
And  will  you  try  to  remember  that  it  was  Friedrich  Froebel  who 
planned  the  kindergarten  for  us  because  he  loved  little  chil- 
dren and  wanted  them  to  be  busy  and  happy,  and  to  grow  in 
three  ways,  as  we  have  said — to  grow  strong,  to  grow  wise,  to 
grow  good ! 


TEACHER'S  READING. 


Life  of  Froebel,       --------      Alex.  Hanschmann 

Reminiscences  of  Froebel,        -        .        -         .    Baroness  von  Marenholz-Bulow 
The  Kindergarten  and  the  School  (by  Four  Workers). 

Friedrich  Froebel,  _-.--_--.       Kriege 

Froebel  and  the  Kindergarten  System,      -----     Joseph  Payne 

Froebel  and  Education  by  Self -Activity,   -        -        -        -         -     H.  C.  Bowen 

Life  of  Froebel  in  "  Paradise  of  Childhood,"     -        -        -         Henry  W.  Blake 


Song  For  Froebers  Birthday^ 

Let  us  sing  to-day  with  gladness 
Of  a  friend  to  childhood  dear. 

One  who  thought  and  labored  for  us 
And  whose  name  we  honor  here. 

Lovingly  he  planned  for  children 
Happy  work  and  merry  play; 

Let  us,  then,  be  glad  and  grateful 
As  we  think  of  him  to-day. 


Emilie  Poulsson. 


The  Kindergarten  Magazine. 


BIRDS. 


To  THE  Teacher:— 


(Let  the  children  tell  the  signs  of  Spring  as  spoken  of  in  the  Spring  talk 
and  story,  and  when  they  mention  the  return  of  the  birds  let  them  tell  the 
names  of  the  first  comers  and  then  of  any  other  birds  which  they  know. 

The  special  bird  to  be  studied  will  be  the  one  which  can  be  obtained. 
Where  a  live  canary  is  not  already  the  happy  possession  of  the  kindergarten, 
one  can  easily  be  borrowed.  If  not,  a  stuflEed  bird  will  do,  and  pictures  are 
always  useful. 

Place  the  bird  where  all  the  children  can  see  it,  and  as  they  describe  this 
special  creature  lead  them  to  compare  it  with  those  previously  observed.  For 
instance,  when  the  bird's  feathers  are  mentioned,  question  concerning  the  cov- 
ering of  four-footed  creatures  and  fishes.  Recall  the  gorgeous  colors  of  many 
fishes  in  connection  with  the  brilliant  plumage  of  the  birds,  and  so  on  through 
all  the  most  noteworthy  points  of  appearance,  and  of  activity  as  well.) 


THE  TALK. 

Birdie  can  fly,  hop,  sing,  build  nest,  lay  eggs ;  has  two  legs 
and  two  wings.  Has  it  a  backbone?  Yes.  Name  all  the  ani- 
mals you  know  which  have  backbones;  those  which  have  four 
feet ;  four  fins ;  two  feet  and  two  hands ;  two  feet  and  two 
wings.  (Such  grouping  will  lead  to  the  observation  that  all 
backbone  animals  have  two  pairs  of  limbs.) 

Look  at  birdie's  legs.  Do  you  see  that  they  are  covered  with 
scales?  How  many  toes  has  this  birdie?  Where  does  he  sleep? 
Where  do  most  birds  sleep?  The  young  birds  in  the  nest,  the 
older  birds  perched  on  the  trees,  holding  firmly  to  the  twig  with 
their  four  toes. 

Do  you  remember  how  the  fish  guided  himself  through  the 
water?  Birdie,  too,  uses  his  tail  to  guide  him  through  the  air, 
but  his  wings  also  help. 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  283 

How  daintily  neat  birds  keep  themselves  !  Many  of  them  like 
to  bathe  in  the  clear,  cold  water  of  the  brooks  or  ponds.  After 
a  splash  they  shake  their  wings  and  fluff  out  their  feathers,  and 
then  set  to  work  to  make  them  all  smooth  again.  This  the  birds 
do  with  their  bills  and  a  little  oil.  You  could  never  guess 
where  they  get  the  oil.  Each  bird  carries  a  little  with  him  in  a 
gland  or  tiny  bag  by  his  tail. 

What  does  birdie  eat?  Grains  and  other  seeds,  worms,  cater- 
pillars and  many  kinds  of  insects.  Are  birds  useful?  (Tell 
briefly  the  story  of  the  '*  Birds  of  Killingworth.") 

What  kind  of  homes  do  birds  have?  Who  makes  the  nests? 
Isn't  it  wonderful  that  they  can  make  such  dear  little  nests  when 
they  have  only  their  bills  and  feet  to  use  for  hands  and  tools? 
(Show  a  bird's  nest,  and  tell  how  the  father  and  mother  bird 
work  together — the  father  often  collecting  the  materials  for  the 
mother  to  weave  into  a  nest.  Sing  the  nest-building  songs — 
"  The  swallow  is  a  mason,"  etc. — and  the  flnger  play  of  **  Fly, 
little  birds,  fly  east  and  west."  Speak  of  the  beautiful  music 
which  adds  so  much  to  the  joyousness  of  the  world ;  and  lastly, 
tell  of  the  love  and  devotion  of  the  parent  birds,  and  the  helpless- 
ness of  the  nestlings,  that  the  children  may  behold  their  own 
family  life  through  this  beautiful  imagery.) 


284 


IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


TEACHER^S  READING. 


Winners  in  Life's  Race  (Chaps.  VI,  VII),      -        -        -        Arabella  Buckley 

Birds  of  America, Audubon 

Key  to  North  American  Birds,  -        -         -        -        -        -        Elliot  Cones 

Land  and  Game  Birds,      ---------         Minot 

Birds  and  Poets,       --------  John  Burroughs 

Song  of  Life,  -_----,-        Margaret  Morley 

Birds  through  an  Opera  Glass,  -----       Florence  Merriam 

April  Birds  ("Sharp  Eyes"), W.H.Gibson 

My  Aviary,       -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -    0.  W.  Holmes 

Birds  of  Killing  worth,      --------  Longfellow 

The  Skylark, ^        -        -        -        -       Shelley 

The  Nightingale,      ----------         Keats 

To  a  Skylark, Wordsworth 

Robert  of  Lincoln,  ----------       Bryant 

The  Singing  Lesson,         --------      Jean  Ingelow 

Sing  on,  Blithe  Bird,        -------      William  Motherwell 

The  Eagle,       -----------  Tennyson 

Elizabeth's  Concert,  ("St.  Nicholas,"  June,  1887),  -  Robina  S.  Smith 

The  Lover  and  Birds,       -------        William  Allingham 

The  Robin,  ^ 

The  Bluebird,  I------.  Emily  Dickmson 

The  Humming  Bird,  J 

Under  the  Lighthouse,  1  r>  i-    -n    ^  ^ 

The  Emperor's  Crown,  I Ceba  Thaxtef 

For  the  Children^ 

The  Nightingale, Andersen 

Dick  and  Topsy  ("Stories  for  Kindergarten  and  Home.")  A.  T.  Ketchum 

Singer's  Lesson  ("Kindergarten  Gems.") 

Story  of  Birds  and  Fishes  ("Kindergarten  Stories  and 

Morning  Talks "), S.  E.  Wiltse' 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  285 


STORES* 
Jack  and  Icnny  Sparrow* 

A  sparrow  that  lived  with  many  others  in  a  public  park 
offended  his  neighbors  by  getting  up  too  early  in  the  morning 
and  beginning  to  chirp  before  they  were  willing  to  be  waked. 
They  called  a  meeting  of  all  the  flock,  and  after  considering  the 
matter  told  him  that  he  and  his  mate  must  look  for  another  home. 

This  he  refused  to  do,  saying  that  he  had  as  good  a  right  to 
stay  where  he  was  as  they  had. 

**  These  trees  do  not  belong  to  you."  he  said,  **and  you  don't 
pay  rent  for  the  bird-boxes  we  live  in.  They  were  put  up  by  the 
people  who  own  the  park,  because  they  love  to  see  us  building 
our  nests  and  flying  about  here. 

"Besides  this,"  he  continued,  **I  have  done  nothing  with 
which  you  ought  to  find  fault,  for  I  never  wake  till  the  break  of 
day,  and  do  not  begin  to  chirp  for  several  minutes  after  that, 
when  all  industrious  sparrows  should  be  ready  for  breakfast. 
This  very  morning  I  heard  a  cock  crow  before  I  opened  my  bill, 
and  what  sparrow  would  not  be  ashamed  to  be  lazier  that  the 
chickens?  " 

When  the  other  birds  heard  this  speech  they  did  not  try  to 
answer  it — for,  indeed,  it  was  every  word  true  and  they  could  say 
nothing  against  it — but  they  attacked  the  sparrow  and  his  mate 
and  drove  them  from  the  park 

As  winter  was  just  coming  on,  they  knew  not  where  to  go  or 
what  to  do.  For  the  first  few  nights  they  roosted  on  the  roof  of 
a  stable  ;  but  this  was  a  forlorn,  lonely  place,  and,  as  they  had  no 
perch  to  clasp  with  their  little  feet,  the  wind  almost  blew  them 
away.  Besides  this,  the  man  who  kept  the  stable  was  so  saving 
of  his  corn,  and  swept  the  yard  so  clean,  that  they  could  hardly 
pick  up  as  much  as  would  make  a  good  meal  in  a  whole  day. 

From  the  roof  of  the  stable  they  moved  under  the  eaves  of  a 
carpenter  shop,  and  thought  they  were  nicely  fixed,  until  one 
dark  night  a  cat  stole  softly  along  the  roof  to  the  spot  where  they 


286  m  THE  child's  world. 

were  sleeping,  and.  suddenly  putting  out  her  paw,  almost  caught 
them  both  in  her  sharp  claws  I 

As  it  was,  she  caught  poor  Jenny's  tail  and  pulled  out  every 
feather  of  it,  which  did  the  cat  no  good,  but  was  a  great  loss  to 
Jenny,,  for  she  could  hardly  guide  herself  in  flying,  and  looked 
very  odd  beside. 

After  this  they  led  a  sad,  wandering  life  for  the  rest  of  the 
winter,  always  sleeping  in  fear  on  clotheslines  and  fences,  and 
picking  up  a  bare  living — mostly  from  frozen  slop  buckets  and 
around  kitchen  doors. 

But  toward  spring  better  fortune  came  to  them,  for  a  little 
girl,  looking  out  of  the  dining-room  window  one  morning,  spied 
them  hopping  about  the  pavement  below,  and  threw  them  some 
crumbs.  Her  joy  was  great  when  she  saw  them  quickly  eat  what 
she  had  thrown  and  then  seem  to  look  up  for  more.  She  ran 
back  to  the  table  and  brought  them  as  much  as  they  wanted. 

The  next  day  they  came  again,  and  after  this,  every  day, 
almost  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  they  might  be  seen  waiting  for 
their  breakfast  from  the  hands  of  their  little  friend. 

But  think  of  their  surprise  one  April  morning,  when  the  sun 
was  shining  brightly  and  the  buds  were  just  beginning  to  swell 
on  the  rosebushes,  to  see  the  carpenter  come  in  at  the  garden 
gate  carrying  a  new  bird-box  fastened  to  the  top  of  a  high  pole, 
which  he  at  once  began  to  set  up  in  the  middle  of  the  grassplot, 
digging  a  deep  hole  to  set  it  in,  so  that  it  would  stand  firm  in 
spite  of  wind  and  weather. 

Their  kind  little  friend  ran  out  from  the  house  and  almost 
danced  for  joy  around  the  pole  while  it  was  being  planted.  And 
her  father  and  mother,  and  brothers  and  sisters,  sharing  in  her 
delight,  all  left  the  breakfast  table  to  watch  the  carpenter  at  his 
work. 

That  very  day  the  happy  pair — little  Jack  and  Jenny — went 
into  their  new  home,  and  before  night  were  picking  up  dried 
grass  and  twigs  with  which  to  begin  building  their  nest. 

Charles  Foster. 
From  '' New  Lights  on  Old  Paths,"  Chas.  Foster  Pub.  Co.,  Phila.,  Pa. 


THE  SPARROWS'  HOME. 


.288  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


Little  YclIow-Wing. 

"  The  brook  !  the  brook  !  let  us  go  to  the  brook  !  "  cried  Willie 
and  his  cousins,  George  and  Eddy,  as  they  looked  from  a  win- 
dow after  a  storm,  and  saw  the  overflowed  banks  of  a  small 
stream. 

Thick  shoes  and  a  cloak  were  brought  for  Lizzie ;  and  she 
walked  by  her  father's  side,  while  the  boys  ran  shouting  and 
jumping  before  them. 

They  found  the  brook  changed  indeed  by  the  rain.  A  few 
days  before  they  had  built  a  dam  across  it,  which  made  a  pre\;ty 
waterfall ;  but  now  it  was  all  swept  away,  and  the  brook  was  no 
longer  a  narrow  stream,  but  had  spread  out  wide,  and  ran  furi- 
ously over  the  stones. 

While  the  boys  were  running  after  chips  of  wood  which  they 
threw  into  the  water  for  boats,  the  father,  who  stood  with  Lizzie 
under  a  tree,  saw  something  move  near  his  feet,  and  picked  up  a 
poor,  half-drowned  bird.  Lizzie  called  her  brother  and  cousins, 
and  they  all  looked  sorrowfully  at  the  bird,  and  said,  '*Poor  fel- 
low !  poor  fellow !  "  and  begged  to  take  him  to  the  house,  for  he 
shook  with  cold,  and  seemed  to  be  dying.  He  was  laid  in  Lizzie's 
hand;  she  gently  covered  him  and  carried  him  home  to  her 
mother.  The  little  creature  was  dried  and  warmed ;  and  his 
feathers,  which,  when  wet,  did  not  hide  his  body,  spread  out  and 
covered  him  with  a  thick  plumage. 

**Is  it  really  the  same  bird?"  asked  Lizzie.  '*0h,  I  am  so 
glad  papa  found  him  !  " 

**See,"  said  Eddy,  "the  bright  yellow  on  his  brown  wings! 
Let  us  name  him  Yellow-wing.'* 

Crumbs  of  bread  were  offered  to  him,  but  he  would  not  eat, 
and  cried.  "Peep,  peep,"  long  after  he  was  laid  in  a  warm 
basket. 

"The  next  morning  Yellow-wing  looked  quite  lively,  and  no 
longer  cried,  "Peep,  peep,"  but  cheerfully  sang,  "  Chirp,  chirp." 
"He  is  a  yellow  bird,"  said  George;  "and  when  he  is  older, 
he  will  be  as  pretty  as  a  canary." 

Willie  looked  at  his  mother,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  say,  "  May 
I  keep  him?  " 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  289 

She  answered:  **No,  my  son,  it  would  be  cruel  to  take  him 
from  the  green  trees  and  fields  ;  for 

"  '  How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 
Living  in  love  in  a  leafy  tree!  '  " 

"I  know,"  said  Willie,  **that  I  should  not  like  to  be  shut  up 
in  a  cage  ;  but  what  shall  we  do  with  him  ?  ' ' 

**He  cannot  fly,  poor  fellow,"  said  Lizzie;  **we  must  keep 
him  until  he  can  fly." 

Eddy  told  of  a  nest  in  the  barn,  and  said  that  Yellow-wing 
might  be  squeezed  in  among  those  young  ones. 

**But,"  said  George,  **the  nest  in  the  barn  belongs  to  a  swal- 
low, who  will  not  like  to  have  a  yellow  bird  among  her  little 
ones." 

At  last  it  was  agreed  to  take  him  back  to  the  brook,  and  try 
to  find  the  nest  from  which  he  fell.  The  children  soon  started 
on  their  errand  of  love  and  kindness,  more  happy  in  taking  a 
poor  bird  to  his  father  and  mother  than  if  they  had  been  allowed 
to  keep  him  in  a  cage.  They  carried  him  to  the  tree  under 
which  he  was  found,  and  stood  him  on  a  fence  near  it.  Yellow- 
wing  cried,  "Peep,  peep,"  and  "Peep,  peep,"  was  heard  from 
the  tree. 

"  '  Come  up,  come  up/  they  seemed  to  say, 
'Where  the  topmost  twigs  to  the  breezes  play!  '  " 

But  he  could  not  fly  up,  and  Willie  said :  "  The  old  birds  will 
not  conie  down  while  we  are  so  near."  So  the  children  went  to 
a  pile  of  stones,  and  sat  there  quite  still. 

"  See,  see  his  mother  !  "  whispered  Lizzie,  as  a  larger  bird  flew 
from  the  tree  and  alighted  close  to  Yellow-wing.  Soon  the  old 
bird  flew  off  a  little,  and  the  young  one  spread  his  wings  and 
followed  her ;  a  little  further  went  the  mother  bird,  and  Yellow- 
wing  flew  after  her ;  and  thus,  by  flying  a  short  distance  at  a 
time,  he  soon  learned  to  fly  well  enough  to  reach  a  low  branch  of 
a  tree,  than  a  higher  one,  and  at  last  both  birds  were  hid  among 
the  leaves.  And  Lizzie  said  :  "Hark  !  I  hear  the  '  Chirp,  chirp,' 
of  dear  little  Yellow-wing.  He  is  so  glad  to  get  back  into  the 
WATm  hest  ( " 

— Selected. 


290  IN  THE  CHILD* S  WORLD. 


Child  and  Bird. 

"  Birdie,  Birdie,  will  you  pet? 
Summer  is  far  and  far  away  yet. 
I've  a  silken  quilt  and  a  feather  bed, 
And  a  pillow  of  satin  for  your  head." 

"I'd  rather  sleep  in  the  ivy  wall, 
No  rain  comes  through,  though  I  hear  it  fall; 
The  sun  peeps  gay  at  dawn  of  day. 
And  I  sing  and  wing  away,  away." 

"  O  Birdie,  Birdie,  will  you  pet? 
Here  are  diamonds,  amber  and  jet! 
I'll  make  a  necklace,  fair  and  fine. 
To  please  this  pretty  bird  of  mine.  " 

"  Oh!     Thanks  for  diamonds  and  thanks  for  jet 
But  there  is  something  costlier  yet : 
A  feather  necklace,  round  and  round. 
That  I  wouldn't  sell  for  a  thousand  pound.  " 

"  O  Birdie,  Birdie,  won^t  you  pet? 
I'll  give  you  a  dish  of  silver  fret, 
A  golden  cup  and  an  ivy  seat. 
And  carpets  soft  beneath  your  feet." 

Can  running  water  be  drunk  from  gold? 
Can  a  silver  dish  the  forest  hold  ? 
A  rocking  twig  is  the  finest  chair. 
And  the  softest  paths  lie  through  the  air. 
Good-bye,  good-bye,  to  my  lady  fair !  " 

William  AixiNGnAM. 


The  Sandpipers. 

Children,  did  you  ever  see  a  sandpiper?  *' No."  (Show  a 
picture  of  one.)  *' What  long  legs  it  has  for  such  a  little  bird ! " 
Yes.  Why  do  you  suppose  he  has  such  long  legs?  '*To  wade 
with?  ''  Yes.  Mr.  Sandpiper  lives  by  the  side  of  a  great  piece 
of  salt  water  called  an  ocean.  The  land  that  is  close  to  the 
water  is  called  a  beach.  It  is  sometimes  rocky,  but  where  Mr. 
Sandpiper  lives  it  is  sandy.     He  is  not  very  sociable,  for  he  and 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  291 


his  wife  and  the  babies  live  where  there  are  no  other  families  of 
Sandpipers  very  near  him.  Mrs.  Sandpiper  makes  her  nest 
near  the  beach. 

One  day  the.wh:le  family  were  on  the  beach,  ruiming  up  and 
down,  and  the  father  and  mother  were  scratching  in  the  loose 
sand  and  getting  worms  for  the  baby  Sandpipers  and  for  them- 
selves to  eat.  Every  time  one  of  the  little  Sandpipers  called,  the 
father  or  mother  put  a  worm  into  its  open  mouth.  But  the 
babies  wanted  so  much  food  that,  after  a  while,  their  mamma 
thought  they  had  better  learn  to  catch  worms  for  themselves ; 
so  she  called  them  and  showed  them  how  to  scratch  up  the  sand, 
and  how  to  catch  the  worms  when  they  were  in  sight.  The 
Sandpiper  family  were  having  a  very  good  time  eating  and  play- 
ing, when  suddenly  they  saw  some  men  coming.  Each  of  these 
men  carried  a  gun. 

Then  Mamma  Sandpiper  was  frightened  and  ran  to  her  nest, 
and  the  baby  Sandpipers  hid  under  her  wings.  But  Papa  Sand- 
piper was  afraid  that  the  men  would  find  them,  and  what  do  you 
suppose  he  did  ?  He  made  beheve  that  he  was  hurt,  and, 
with  his  wings  drooping^  ran  along  before  the  men  to  make 
them  follow  him ;  but  he  would  not  let  them  get  near  enough  to 
fire  at  him.  So  he  led  them  along,  farther  and  farther  from  his 
family,  till  he  thought  the  men  were  far  enough  away  ;  then  he  hid 
from  them,  and  after  a  while,  when  he  was  sure  they  could  not 
see  him,  he  went  back  as  fast  as  he  could  to  the  other  birdies 
who  were  very  glad  tc  see  him  safe  and  well,  and  thanked  him 
for  saving  them.  What  do  you  suppose  they  said  ?  **  Peep, 
peep."  Yes,  that  is  just  what  they  did  say.  Then  they  all  went 
back  to  the  beach,  but  they  did  not  see  the  men  again. 

Josephine  Jarvis. 

Cobden,  T'- 


BIRDS^  NESTS. 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

In  preparation  for  this  talk  the  teacher  should  get  several  nests — as  many  as 
possible — in  order  to  show  the  ingenuity  and  skill  of  the  little  builders  and  the 
variety  of  materials  used. 

Sing  a  bird  song  to  introduce  the  subject  of  nests,  or  lead  to  it  from  the 
finger  play  of  ''  The  Family,"  speaking  of  the  child's  home  and  then  of  other 
homes.  ' 


THE  TALK. 

When  do  the  birds  build  their  nests?  They  usually  seem  anx- 
ious to  have  a  home  as  soon  as  possible  after  they  come  back  in 
the  spring.  What  is  the  first  thing  they  do  about  it?  Choose  a 
place.  Ah !  yes ;  and  if  you  had  a  chance  to  watch  them  you 
would  find  they  thought  that  a  very  important  piece  of  work. 
~  Why  do  they  choose  so  carefully,  do  you  think  ?  Where  do  they 
build  their  nests?  Not  only  in  trees,  but  sometimes  in  low  bushes, 
sometimes  on  the  ground,  sometimes  in  the  barn,  or  even  in  a 

chimney  or  stone  wall  or  a 
sand  bank.  The  place  which 
one  bird  likes  would  not  suit 
another  bird  at  all;  for  in- 
stance, the  robin  often  chooses 
the  apple  trees  while  the  Bal- 
timore oriole  seeks  the  tallest  elm,  and  the  little  ground  sparrow 
feels  safest  on  the  ground.  (The  children  will  not  know  much 
of  nests  being  built  in  other  places  than  trees,  but  should  be 
shown  the  advantage  of  different  sites.) 

Now  let  us  look  at  these  nests.  Look  sharply  and  see  what  the 
birds  have  woven  together — strings,  leaves,  hay,  straw,  sticks, 
mud,  moss,  bark,  feathers,  hair,  wool,  etc.,  etc. 

Does  it  seem  possible  that  a  home  could  be  made  of  such  bits 
and  scraps?     Do  you  think  we  could  make  anything  out  of  them 


Baltimore 

Orioles 

Nest 


293 


294  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

that  would  be*  strong  enough  to  hold  a  mother  bird  and  her  eggs, 
and,  by  and  by,  the  young  birds?  (If  practicable  let  the  children 
gather  materials  and  attempt  making  a  nest,  and  they  will  be  the 
more  impressed  with  the  wondrous  skill  of  the  bird.) 

How  do  the  birds  get  all  these  things  for  building  their  nests? 
They  have  to  find  them.  Can  they  carry  much  at  one  time? 
Just  think  how  many  times  they  must  fly  back  and  forth  before 
they  can  have  enough.  Perhaps  you  can  put  some  strings  and 
threads  out  of  doors  where  the  birds  can  see  them  easily  and  get 
them.  Shouldn't  you  like  to  give  something  towards  building  a 
bird's  nest? 

What  tools  does  a  bird  use?  Only  her  beak  and  her  feet ;  and 
yet  she  can  weave,  or  sew,  or  plaster,  or  bore  holes,  or  dig,  just 
as  she  finds  the  best  and  safest  way  for  making  her  nest. 

"  Of  all  the  weavers  that  I  know  the  oriole  is  the  best."  Her 
nest  is  like  a  deep  pocket  and  so  closely  woven  that  the  rain  can- 
not get  through  the  sides  at  all.  She  must  have  long  pieces  for 
her  weaving,  so  she  tears  strips  from  the  tough  stems  of  plants 
and  finds  long  hairs  from  the  horse's  tail 

The  best  sewer  is  the  tailor  bird,  who  does  not  come  to  our 
land,  however.  She  takes  long  leaves  and  actually  sews  them 
together  with  real  stitches.  How  interesting  it  must  be  to  see 
the  little  creature  making  the  holes  and  putting  the  thread  through 
with  her  sharp  bill ! 

The  swallow  plasters  her  nest  under  the  eaves  with  mud,  so  we 
call  her  a  mason.  Robin,  too,  likes  mud  and  is  wise  enough  to 
mix  straws  with  the  mud  so  that  it  shall  not  crumble  away. 

The  woodpecker  is  the  most  like  a  carpenter,  for  he  works  with 
wood  instead  of  these  soft  things.  He  hammers  at  a  tree  with 
his  sharp,  strong  bill  till  he  makes  a  roimd,  smooth  hole  large 
enough  to  pass  through,  and  then  he  and  Mrs.  Woodpecker  take 
turns  working  till  they  have  hollowed  out  a  nice  nest.  They  carry 
out  their  chips  as  they  work,  too. 

The  chimney  swallow  makes  a  kind  of  glue  with  which 
she  glues  the  sticks  together  and  fastens  them  to  the  side  of  the 
chimney. 

All  these  are  perching  birds,  which  are  the  best  nest-builders, 
because  they  have  the  strong  yet  delicate  feet  and  bills,  which 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


)9S 


make  the  best  tools.  The  ground  birds  make  loose,  simple  nests, 
most  of  them  digging  their  nests  in  the  sand. 

The  smallest  and  prettiest  nest  is  made  by  the  smallest  and 
prettiest  bird  in  the  world — the  humming  bird.  With  softest  cot- 
ton or  wool  on  the  inside,  and  pretty  bits  of  moss  and  bark  on  the 
outside,  and  put  together  with  a  filmy  spider's  web,  it  is  really 
beautiful.  And  it  shows  how  wise  and  careful  the  humming  bird 
is,  too,  for  the  moss  and  bark  make  the  nest  so  like  the  tree  on 
which  it  is  placed  that  it  is  seldom  found. 

Birds  do  not  always  build  new  nests.  Some  of  them  find  their 
own  old  one  where  they  lived  the  year  before,  and  use  that,  mend- 
ing it  if  necessary ;  others  take  nests  which  another  kind  of  bird 
has  built ;  but  the  most  of  them  make  a  new  nest  for  each  brood 
of  little  ones,  as  if  they  wanted  to  be  sure  to  have  as  strong  and 
safe  and  nice  a  home  for  their  other  children  as  they  had  had  for 
their  first  nestlings. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 


Homes  without  Hands,     -        -        -        -        -        -        -        -       J.  G.  Wood 

Preface  ("  Merry  Songs  and  Games"), Susan  E.  Blovc 

Birds'  Nests  ("Wake  Robin"), John  Burroughs 

The  Tragedies. of  the  Nests  ("  Signs  and  Seasons  "),         -  John  Burroughs 

Sharp  Eyes  ("Locusts  and  Wild  Honey"),       -         -         _  John  Burroughs 

BirdNest  Materials  ("Sharp  Eyes"), W.H.Gibson 

The  White  Heron, ~  Sarah  0.  Jewett 

An  Order  for  a  Picture,   --------         Alice  Gary 

Choosing  a  Building  Spot,         ------  Emily  Braddock 

For  the  Children. 

The  Bramble  Bush  and  the  Lambs  1    /«Tr-   j  .       Oi.    • 

A  Queer  Place  for  a  Bird's  Home  j  ^    ^mdergarten  Stones 

and  Morning  Talks  "), S.  E.  Wltse 


296  IN  THE  child's  world. 


STORIES. 

The  Scarecrow^ 

The  farmer  looked  at  his  cherry  tree, 

With  thick  buds  clustered  on  every  bough ; 
"  I  wish  I  could  cheat  the  robins,"  said  he; 
"If  somebody  only  would  show  me  how!  " 

"  I'll  make  a  terrible  scarecrow  grim, 

With  threatening  arms  and  with  bristling  head, 
And  up  in  the  tree  I'll  fasten  him 

To  frighten  them  half  to  death,"  he  said. 

He  fashioned  a  scarecrow  tattered  and  torn — 

Oh!   'twas  a  horrible  thing  to  see! 
And  very  early,  one  summer  morn, 

He  set  it  up  in  his  cherry  tree. 

The  blossoms  were  white  as  the  light  sea-foam, 
The  beautiful  tree  was  a  lovely  sight. 

But  the  scarecrow  stood  there  so  much  at  home 
All  the  birds  flew  screaming  away  in  fright. 

The  robins,  who  watched  him  every  day, 
Heads  held  aslant,  keen  eyes  so  bright! 
Surveying  the  monster,  began  to  say, 
"  Why  should  this  monster  our  prospects  blight.' 

"  He  never  moves  round  for  the  roughest  weather, 
He's  a  harmless,  comical,  tough  old  fellow; 
Let's  all  go  into  the  tree  together, 

For  he  won't  budge  till  the  fruit  is  mellow!  " 

So  up  they  flew;   and  the  sauciest  pair 

Mid  the  shady  branches  peered  and  perked. 

Selected  a  spot  with  the  utmost  care, 
And  all  day  merrily  sang  and  worked. 

And  where  do  you  think  they  built  their  nest? 

In  the  scarecrow's  pocket,  if  you  please. 
That,  half  concealed  on  his  ragged  breast, 

Made  a  charming  covert  of  safety  and  ease! 


IN    THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  297 

By  the  time  the  cherries  were  ruby-red, 

A  thriving  family,  hungry  and  brisk, 
The  whole  day  long  on  the  ripe  fruit  fed; 

'Twas  so  convenient!     They  ran  no  risk! 

Until  the  children  were  ready  to  fly, 

All  undisturbed  they  lived  in  the  tree; 

For  nobody  thought  to  look  at  the  Guy 

For  a  robin's  flourishing  family! 

Celia  Thaxter. 


The  Nest  of  Many  Colors. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oriole  arrived  from  the  South  one  bright  day  in 
May.  They  had  had  a  pleasant  journey,  but  were  glad  to  find 
themselves  once  more  at  the  old  summer  home — the  great  elm 
tree  which  stood  on  the  top  of  the  hill  and  swung  its  branches 
over  the  farmhouse  in  which  Ned  and  Kitty  lived  You  would 
never  have  thought  that  those  two  birds  had  been  traveling  hun- 
dreds of  miles,  if  you  had  seen  the  way  they  darted  about,  Mr. 
Oriole's  yellow  feathers  showing  like  flashes  of  sunshine  as  he  flew 
swiftly  past. 

The  two  birds  were  very  happy  to  be  back,  and  had  so  many 
things  to  dp  that  they  had  no  desire  to  sit  still,  not  they  1  Mr. 
Oriole  wanted  to  see  the  Robins  and  Bluebirds  and  all  the  other 
friends  who  had  arrived,  and  to  get  the  spring  news.  He  also 
wanted  to  see  the  Pigeons  and  hear  how  the  winter  had  gone  with 
them.  But  Mrs.  Oriole  was  anxious  to  get  to  nest-building  at 
once. 

**  My  dear  mate,"  said  she,  **you  know  how  much  material  it 
takes  to  make  a  nest  and  how  much  work  it  is  to  weave  it.  Do 
help  me  first  to  collect  some  things  for  weaving.  There  will  be 
plenty  of  time  for  visiting  later." 

*'  But  if  we  go  to  the  barn  where  the  pigeons  are  perhaps  I  can 
get  you  some  of  those  long  hairs  which  are  so  good  for  weaving," 
suggested  Mr.  Oriole. 

**  Oh  !  then  we'll  go,  by  all  means,"  said  Mrs.  Oriole  ;  and  away 
they  went. 


298  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

Now  while  the  orioles  had  been  chatting  together,  Ned  and 
Kittie  had  been  watching  them  with  great  delight.  Ned  could 
not  remember  seeing  the  orioles  last  year ;  but  Kitty,  who  was 
older,  felt  that  she  had  known  them  a  long  while,  for  she  had 
watched  them  build  their  nest  several  times. 

This  year  the  children  had  a  great  plan.  Kitty  had  thought 
of  it  one  day  when  she  was  crocheting,  and  she  had  saved  some 
pieces  of  bright  worsted  which  she  had  at  first  thought  of  throw- 
ing away. 

'*  The  orioles  will  soon  be  back,''  she  had  said  ;  *'  I  may  as  well 
keep  these  worsteds.  What  a  gay  spot  they  will  make  in  a  nest !" 
After  this  she  had  saved  other  pieces,  and  now  had  a  bright  bunch 
of  red  and  orange  and  yellow  and  green  and  blue  and  purple  ;  and 
she  and  Ned  had  planned  that  the  oriole  nest  this  year  should 
be  the  most  gorgeous  that  was  ever  woven. 

When  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oriole  return^  i  from  their  visit  to  the 
barn  they  were- in  high  glee,  for  they  had  each  found  one  of  the 
long  hairs  from  the  farm-horses'  tails,  and  this  was  a  great  good 
fortune  !  Kitty  and  Ned  slipped  away  from  the  bushes  near  the 
elm  tree  just  in  time.  They  had  spread  some  bright  red  worsted 
out  in  plain  sight,  and  now  stood  in  the  doorway  watching. 

Mr.  Oriole  was  flying  ahead  of  her  mate,  and,  reaching  the 
tree  first,  alighted  on  the  tip  of  a  long,  slender  branch  high  up  in 
the  tree.  This  was  the  spot  which  they  had  decided  upon  for 
their  nest. 

No  sooner  had  they  perched  on  the  branch  with  the  horsehairs 
trailing  from  their  bills,  than  they  spied  the  red  worsted  on  the 
bushes  below.     You  cannot  think  how  delighted  they  were. 

**  We  can  get  to  work  very  soon  if  we  have  such  good  fortune 
as  this,"  chirped  Mrs.  Oriole.  ''  Now  let  us  go  and  find  one  of 
those  plants  *  which  have  such  good  stalks  to  tear  strips  from." 

Mr.  Oriole  agreed,  and  the  two  flew  away  again.     They  found 


*  "  For  fibrous  materials  she  broke,  hackled,  and  gathered  the  flax  of  the 
asclepias  and  hibiscus  stalks,  tearing  off  long  strings  and  flying  with  them  to  the 
scene  of  her  labors." 

NUTTALL. 

"  A  peculiar  flax-like  substance  seems  to  be  always  sought  after  and  always 
found." 

Burroughs. 

"  Vincent  Barnard  of  Pennsylvania  says  that  a  friend  of  his,  on  observing  the 
bird  (an  oriole)  beginning  to  build,  hung  out  near  the  prospective  nest  skeins 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  299 

the  plant  they  wanted  and  tugged  away  with  their  beaks  and  their 
claws  till  they  each  had  a  good  long  strip.  They  flew  back  to  the 
elm  tree  again,  and  behold !  upon  the  same  bush  where  the  red 
worsted  had  so  mysteriously  appeared,  were  now  some  orange  and 
yellow  strands,  as  gay  as  the  orange  and  lemons  which  they  had 
seen  in  the  land  where  they  had  spent  the  winter. 

*' Quick!  Quick!"  called  Mrs.  Oriole  in  great  excitement. 
**  Let  us  get  that,  too  !     I  must  begin  to  work  immediately.*' 

And  begin  she  did,  while  Mr.  Oriole  fluttered  about, — some- 
times helping,  sometimes  looking  on,  and  often  bursting  into 
joyous  song. 

Ned  and  Kitty  watched — oh  !  so  quietly — as  long  as  they  could 
see,  and  wished  that  the  leaves  did  not  hide  the  little  weaver. 
Every  day  after  this  Ned  and  Kitty  put  more  worsteds  out  on  the 
bushes — green,  and  then  blue,  and  then  purple — until  all  their 
colors  were  used.  The  birds  always  spied  the  worsted  very  soon, 
and  twittered  and  warbled  joyfully  over  it.  Day  after  day  they 
worked  busily  and  happily ;  and  the  strips  torn  from  the  plants, 
the  long  wisps  of  hay,  the  gay  worsteds  and  the  horsehair  were 
woven  together  and  soon  took  shape  as  a  nest. 

It  was  wonderful  how  cleverly  the  little  birds  managed  and  how 
patiently  they  worked.  The  long  strips  caught  and  tangled  on 
the  twigs  of  the  tree  sometimes,  and  sometimes  the  wind  carried 
off  a  whisp  of  hay  just  when  Mrs.  Oriole  was  going  to  weave  it ; 
but  the  two  weavers  chirped  and  twittered  gaily  all  the  while, 
notwithstanding. 

At  last,  within  a  week,  the  happy  day  came  when  the  nest  was 
finished,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oriole  had  a  rollicking  jubilee  of  song 
over  its  completion.  No  wonder  they  were  happy  !  How  safe 
their  little  home  was  !  No  eggs  could  fall  out  of  such  a  deep  nest 
as  this.  No  rain  could  get  through  its  thin  but  closely  woven 
sides  to  chill  the  •  eggs  or  the  baby  birds  who  would  by  and  by 
come  from  the  eggs.  And  what  could  be  more  delightful  for  the 
little  ones  than  the  swaying,  rocking  motion  which  even  the  gen- 

of  many-colored  zephyr  yarn,  which  the  eager  artist  readily  appropriated.  He 
managed  it  so  that  the  birds  used  nearly  equal  quantities  of  various  high,  bright 
colors.  The  nest  was  made  unusually  deep  and  capacious,  and  it  may  be  ques- 
tioned if  such  a  thing  of  beauty  was  ever  before  woven  by  the  cunning  of  a  bird. " 

From  John  Burroughs^  "  Wake  Robin." 


300  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

tlest  breeze  gave  to  this  high  swinging  home  ?     Thus  far  it  was  just 
like  the  nest  of  many  other  orioles,  for,  as  we  often  sing : — 

"  Of  all  the  weavers  that  I  know 
The  oriole  is  the  best. 
High  in  the  branches  of  the  tree 
He  hangs  his  cosy  nest." 

But  the  worsteds  which  Kitty  and  Ned  had  supplied  made 
brilliant  spots  and  bands  of  color  such  as  had  never  been  seen 
before  in  the  nest  of  a  bird. 

**  See  !  See  !  See  !  "  caroled  Mr.  Oriole  as  he  flew  round  and 
round  the  nest  in  ecstasy.  **  It  is  as  gay  as  a  flower  garden  !  It 
must  be  those  wonderful  strings  which  we  found  on  the  bushes 
below  which  make  it  so  beautiful." 

*'  Flower  garden,  do  you  say  ?  "  sang  Mrs.  Oriole.  **  There  are 
colors  more  dear  and  beautiful  to  me  than  the  bright  flower  colors. 
That  soft  green  reminds  me  of  the  leaves  which  rustle  about  our 
home  and  shade  it  and  hide  it.  But  this  little  spot  right  here,  my 
dear,  is  what  I  most  rejoice  to  see ;  not  because  it  is  like  yellow 
flowers  or  sunshine,  though  it  is  like  both ;  but  because  it  is  the 
color  of  your  own  golden,  bright  feathers.  I  remember  well  when 
I  wove  that  string  into  the  nest." 

Then  the  two  birds  joined  in  the  oriole  song  of  '*  Home,  Sweet 
Home,"  which  is  of  a  different  tune, from  the  one  we  people  sing, 
but  which  has  the  same  meaning,  I  am  sure. 

While  the  orioles  were  rejoicing  thus  over  their  beautiful  home, 
Ned  and  Kitty,  with  their  papa  and  mamma,  were  looking  up  at 
the  completed  nest.     They  were  filled  with  wonder  and  delight. 

**Who  would  ever  think  that  such  a  beautiful  and  perfect  thing 
as  that  was  made  without  hands  and  without  tools?  "  said  Papa. 

"  I  am  so  glad  I  saved  the  worsted  !  "  said  Kitty.  **  I  mean  to 
put  some  out  every  spring." 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


The  SpawoVs  Nest 

Nay,  only  look  what  I  have  found  I 
A  sparrow's  nest  upon  the  ground; 
A  sparrow's  nest,  as  you  may  see. 
Blown  out  of  yonder  old  elm  tree. 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  301 


And  what  a  medley  thing  it  is! 
I  never  saw  a  nest  like  this, — 
So  neatly  wove  with  decent  care. 
Of  silvery  moss  and  shining  hair. 

But  put  together,  odds  and  ends. 
Picked  up  from  enemies  and  friends: 
See,  bits  of  thread,  and  bits  of  rag, 
Just  like  a  little  rubbish  bag! 

See,  hair  of  dog  and  fur  of  cat, 

And  rovings  of  a  worsted  mat. 

And  shreds  of  silks,  and  many  a  feather 

Compacted  cunningly  together. 

Well!  here  has  hoarding  been  and  living, 
And  not  a  little  good  contriving. 
Before  a  home  of  peace  and  ease 
Was  fashioned  out  of  things  like  these! 

Think,  had  these  odds  and  ends  been  brought 
To  some  wise  man  renowned  for  thought, 
Some  man,  of  men  the  very  gem. 
Pray,  what  could  he  have  done  with  them? 

If  we  had  said:   "  Here,  sir,  we  bring 
You  many  a  worthless  little  thing. 
Just  bits  and  scraps,  so  very  small 
That  they  have  scarcely  size  at  all; 

And  out  of  these,  you  must  contrive 

A  dwelling  large  enough  for  five ; 

Neat,  warm,  and  snug;  with  comfort  stored; 

Where  five  small  things  may  lodge  and  board." 

How  would  the  man  of  learning  vast 
Have  been  astonished  and  aghast, 
And  vowed  that  such  a  thing  had  been   . 
Ne'er  heard  of,  thought  of,  much  less  seen. 

Ah!  man  of  learning  you  are  wrong; 
Instinct  is,  more  than  wisdom,  strong; 
And  He  who  made  the  sparrow,  taught 
This  skill  beyond  your  reach  of  thought. 

And  here  in  this  uncostly  nest. 
These  little  creatures  have  been  blest; 
Nor  have  kings  known  in  palaces. 
Half  their  contentedness  in  this — 
Poor,  simple  dwelling  as  it  is! 


Mary  Howirr. 


THE  BUTTERFLY. 


To  THE  Teacher:— 

A  good  time  to  catch  the  early  spring  butterfly  is,  paradoxically,  the  previous 
autumn,  when  it  is  in  ?ts  chrysalis  state;  or,  better  still,  when  it  is  in  its  cater- 
pillar childhood.*  This  requires  forethought  and  some  little  trouble;  but,  to 
use  an  expression  of  the  Welsh  peasant,  "  The  trouble's  a  pleasure,  mem."  For, 
however  familiar  the  fact  of  the  metamorphosis  of  insects  may  be,  to  watch  a 
caterpillar  through  its  changes  is  to  be  present  at  one  of  nature's  miracles  more 
wonderful  than  any  transformation  scene  of  fairy  land. 

The  teacher  should  not  defraud  herself  of  this  delight,  and  should  bring  it  to 
the  children;  for  it  is  perfectly  feasible  to  have  the  whole  cycle  of  changes 
accomplished  in  kindergarten. 

In  the  following  talk  it  is  assumed  that  the  teacher  has  a  butterfly  and  the 
chrysalis  from  which  it  emerged,  and  the  talk  should  surely  not  be  given  with- 
out such  specimens. 

By  obtaining  the  specimen  in  its  caterpillar  or  chrysalis  state  cruelty  is  avoided, 
and  the  considerate  treatment  during  the  short  captivity  and  the  prompt  freeing 
of  the  insect  when  strong  enough  to  fly  away  can  be  a  lesson  in  mercy. 

The  butterfly  could  be  in  a  glass  jar,  with  mosquito  netting  over  the  top,  for 
a  short  time  while  the  children  observe  it,  after  which  they  will  enjoy  giving  it 
its  liberty.  Flowers,  with  a  drop  of  sugar  syrup  added  to  their  own  nectar,  or 
sweetened  water  sprinkled  on  the  plants  in  the  window,  may  tempt  it  to  eat 
when  it  is  flying  about  the  room. 

The  perfected  insect — the  butterfly — is  brought  to  the  children  first,  rather  than 
the  caterpillar  or  chrysalis,  because  of  its  beauty,  because  it  is  more  common 
than  the  caterpillar  at  this  time  (mid-April),  and  because  it  corresponds  with 
the  other  spring  symbols  of  renewed  life.  But  the  observation  of  the  cater- 
pillar should  follow  soon  and  should  be  extended  over  the  whole  caterpillar 
stage  of  the  insect's  existence^  including  the  dormant  period,  and  coming  again 
to  the  butterfly  which  lays  the  eggs  from  which  the  caterpillar  grows. 

Caterpillars  will  be  placidly  comfortable  and  happy  in  boxes  or  glass  jars 
covered  with  netting,  if  supplied  daily  with  enough  fresh  leaves  of  a  kind  to 
suit  their  taste. 


*  From  the  latest  autumn  brood  of  the  Vanessa  Antiopa,  etc.,  found  on  wil- 
lows, poplars  and  elms. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  303 


THE  TALK. 

"What  season  of  the  year  is  this?  What  signs  of  spring  have 
you  noticed?  Even  in  the  city  we  can  see  some,  but  cut  in  the 
country  we  should  see  many  more.  I  have  brought  one  of  the 
beautiful  signs  of  spring  to  show  you  to-day.  It  can  fly  like  a 
bird  and  is  as  pretty  as  a  flower,  but  it  is  neither  flower  nor  bird. 
Here  it  is.     What  is  it? 

(Direct  the  observation  by  questioning  so  that  the  children 
will  notice  the  color,  the  number  of  wings — two  on  each  side  or 
four  in  all — the  slender  legs — three  on  each  side  or  six  in  all — the 
large  eyes  which  can  see  in  all  directions,  the  two 
antennae  or  feelers,  the  three  divisions  of  the  body. 
Call  attention  to  the  rings  of  the  abdomen,  since 
they  will  be  noticed  again  in  the  caterpillar,  and 
to  the  neck,  which  is  the  distinguishing  mark  of 
insects,  the  name  being  derived  from  in  and  secto, 
to  cut.  That  wings  and  legs  are  both  joined  to 
the  thorax  or  middle  part  of  the  insect,  is  also  im- 
portant to  notice.)  What  does  the  butterfly  eat? 
Honey  from  the  flowers.  Do  you  know  where  the 
flowers  keep  their  honey  (nectar,  to  speak  more  exactly)  ?  Deep 
down  in  the  bottom  part  of  the  flower.  The  butterfly  could  not 
get  his  mouth  away  in  there,  but  he  has  a  wonderful  tongue — a 
long  tube  or  pipe — long  enough  to  reach  the  honey  in  the 
deepest  flowers.  When  the  butterfly  is  not  sipping  honey  his 
long  tongue  is  curled  up  out  of  the  way  and  out  of  sight. 

What  does  the  butterfly  like  to  do?  Fly  about  in  the  hot  surx. 
shine,  moving  its  pretty  wings  up  and  down,  alighting  now  on 
this  flower  and  now  on  that.  Is  it  noisy?  No,  it  makes  no 
sound,  but  flies  about  very  lightly  and  silently.  We  must 
remember  this  when  we  play  that  we  are  butterflies. 

Did  we  see  any  butterflies  in  the  winter?  Do  you  know  where 
they  were  then?  It  is  a  wonderful  story.  Many  of  them  were 
in  little  cases  like  this    (showing  chrysalis) .     You  would  not 


304  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

think  a  butterfly,  with  his  four  large  wings,  was  ever  in  such  a 
little  place,  would  you?  But  the  first  part  of  the  story  is  more 
wonderful  still ;  for,  although  a  butterfly  came  out  of  this  case 
(or  chrysalis) ,  a  caterpillar  made  it ! 

How  many  children  have  seen  caterpillars?  How  do  they 
look?  Have  they  wings?  What  do  they  eat?  Do  they  look 
like  butterflies?  (Show  caterpillar  and  compare  with  the  but- 
terfly, bringing  out  differences  chiefly.) 

Yet,  although  they  are  so  different,  a  butterfly  always  grows 
from  a  caterpillar.  The  caterpillar  crawls  about,  eating  almost 
all  the  time,  and  grows  very  fast.  In  fact  it  grows  so  fast  that 
it  gets  too  large  for  its  skin,  and  the  skin  splits  open  down  the 
back  and  drops  off,  and  there  is  a  new,  bright,  looser  skin  under- 
neath. After  the  caterpillar  has  outgrown  its  skin  three  or  four 
times  and  had  as  many  new  dresses,  it  stops  eating,  fastens  itself 
up  somewhere  and  shakes  itself  out  of  its  skin  once  more.  This 
time  there  is  no  new  caterpillar  skin  ready,  for  the  caterpillar 
has  begun  to  change  to  a  butterfly  and  will  not  need  it.  So,  in- 
stead, this  covering  forms  all  over  its  body  and  the  creature  stays 
safely  shut  up  in  its  chrysalis,  until  its  wings  have  grown  and  it 
has  become  a  perfect  butterfly.  As  soon  as  this  has  happened  it 
makes  a  little  opening  in  the  chrysalis,  puts  out  its  head  and 
looks  about,  and  at  last  crawls  out.  You  would  not  think  the 
butterfly  very  pretty  as  it  stands  on  the  outside  of  the  empty 
case ;  for  its  colors  are  dull,  and  its  dripping  wings  cling  to  its 
wet  sides,  making  it  look  very  limp  and  forlorn.  But  after  it 
has  stretched  its  legs,  and  stroked  and  spread  and  dried  its 
wings,  the  beautiful  colors  grow  more  and  more  brilliant ;  and 
when  the  butterfly  floats  off  in  the  sunshine  it  is  so  beautiful 
that  we  almost  think  it  is  a  flower  on  wings. 


PAPIUO  TURNUS. 


305 


306 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

The  Thaw  Butterflies  ("Sharp  Eyes/') W.H.Gibson 

Life  and  her  Children  (Chap.  XI),  -        -        -        -        Arabella  Buckley 

Insects  Injurious  to  Vegetation,         -.-...-       Harris 

Butterflies  of  New  England, C.  J.  Maynard 

Butterflies  of  North  America,  -        -        -        -        -        -  C.  J.  Maynard 

The  Butterflies  of  Eastern  United  States  and  Canada,        -     Samuel  H.  Scudder 
Insect  Lives;  or  Born  in  Prison,       -        -        -        -        -        -      J.  P.  Ballard 

Worms  or  Caterpillars,  etc.  ("Kindergarten  Magazine," 

October,  1891), E.  G.  Howe 

Paradise  Lost  (Book  VII), Milton 

The  Nomades,  .._..--.-.       Lowell 

To  a  Butterfly, Wordsworth 

The  Butterfly's  Day,         -------  Bmily  Dickinsot\ 

For  the  Children* 

Sc^ale  V/fnged]^^"°'''  }     ("  ^'"^^  ^^^^  ^°  Feathers  and  Fur  "),      0.  T.  Miller 


Some  Common  Butterflies* 


The  first  butterflies  of  the  spring  are  those  which  have  hiber- 
nated in  their  winged  state — Vanessa  Antiopa,  Comma,  Semi- 
colon, and  Atlanta.  They  are  sometimes  tempted  out  by  warm 
days  in  March,  and  in  April  are  quite  common. 

Here  are  some  hints  from  Wm.  H.  Gibson,  that  sharp-eyed 
observer  and  charming  chronicler : — 

**  The  butterflies  are  now  frequenting  the  tender  foliage  of  the 
willows  by  the  brook,  and  in  a  few  weeks  the  first  brood  of  their 
black,  spiny  caterpillars  will  literally  weigh  down  the  slender 
branches  as  they  strip  the  leaves  and  leave  their  cast-off  skins 
fringing  the  twigs.  Hundreds  of  the  caterpillars  may  be  gath- 
ered in  a  few  moments,  and  the  walls  of  your  collecting  box  will 
soon  be  hung  closely  with  chrysalids,  nearly  all  of  which  will 
have  been  transformed  into  butterflies  within  a  period  of  a  fort- 
night.    There  are  two,  or,  I  am  led  to  think,  even  three  of  these 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  307 

caterpillar  broods  during  the  year,  the  butterflies  from  the  last 
in  autumn,  surviving  the  -winter."     ♦**♦♦♦** 

*'Any  one  of  these  angle-wing  butterflies  (Vanessa  Antiopa, 
Comma,  Semicolon  and  Atlanta) ,  may  be  kept  in  domestication 
through  the  winter  months,  becoming  very  tame  and  familiar, 
and  forming  a  pretty  feature  of  the  conservatory,  or  even  the 
window  garden." 

On  any  of  the  parsley  family  of  plants  will  be  found  a  black- 
banded,  gold-spotted,  green  caterpillar,  with  malodorous  yellow 
horns.  Its  chrysalis  is  gray ;  the  butterfly,  black  swallow-tail — 
Papilio  Asterias. 

On  any  of  the  milkweed  family  will  be  found  a  black-and — 
yellow-banded  caterpillar.  Its  chrysalis  is  emerald  green,  studded 
with  golden  points  ;  the  butterfly,  orange-red  wings,  veined  with 
black — Danais  Archippus. 

On  spice  or  sassafras  bushes,  a  strange  looking  caterpillar,  with 
horns  like  the  Asterias  caterpillar,  feeds.  It  wears  first  a  green 
skin  with  blue  spots,  and  afterwards  (just  before  the  chrysalis 
stage)  a  skin  of  a  rich  yellow  color.  Its  chrysalis  is  of  pale  wood 
color ;  the  butterfly,  the  blue  swallow-tail — Papilio  Troilus. 


STORffiS* 
A  Lesson  of  Faith* 

"  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again?  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will 
I  wait,  till  my  change  come." — Job  xiv:  14. 

*'Let  me  hire  you  as  a  nurse  for  my  poor  children,"  said  a 
Butterfly  to  a  quiet  Caterpillar,  who  was  strolling  along  a  cab- 
bage leaf  in  her  odd,  lumbering  way.  **See  these  little  eggs,'" 
continued  the  Butterfly;  '*I  don't  know  how  long  it  will  be 
before  they  come  to  life,  and  I  feel  very  sick  and  poorly,  and  if 
I  should  die,  who  will  take  care  of  my  baby  butterflies  when  I 
am  gone?  Will  you,  kind,  mild,  green  Caterpillar!  But  you 
must  mind  what  you  give  them  to  eat.  Caterpillar  ! — they  cannot, 
of  course,  live  on  your  rough  food.  You  must  give  them  early 
dew,  and  honey  from  the  flowers;  and  you  must  let  them  fly 


308  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD, 

about  only  a  little  way  at  first;  for,  of  course,  one  can't  expect 
them  to  use  their  wings  properly  all  at  once.  Dear  me  !  it  is  a 
sad  pity  you  cannot  fly  yourself.  But  I  have  no  time  to  look  for 
another  nurse  now,  so  you  will  do  your  best,  I  hope.  Dear! 
dear\  I  cannot  think  what  made  me  come  and  lay  my  eggs  on  a 
cabbage  leaf !  What  a  place  for  young  Butterflies  to  be  born 
upon !  Still  you  will  be  kind,  will  you  not,  to  the  poor  little 
ones?  Here,  take  this  gold-dust  from  my  wings  as  a  reward. 
Oh,  how  dizzy  I  am !  Caterpillar,  you  will  remember  about  the 
food''— 

And  with  these  words  the  Butterfly  drooped  her  wings  and 
died ;  and  the  green  Caterpillar,  who  had  not  had  the  opportu- 
nity of  even  saying  yes  or  no  to  the  request,  was  left  standing 
alone  by  the  side  of  the  Butterfly's  eggs. 

**  A  pretty  nurse  she  has  chosen,  indeed,  poor  lady  !  "exclaimed 
she,  **  and  a  pretty  business  I  have  in  hand  !  Why,  her  senses 
must  have  left  her,  or  she  never  would  have  asked  a  poor,  crawl- 
ing creature  like  me  to  bring  up  her  dainty  little  ones !  Much 
they'll  mind  me,  truly,  when  they  feel  the  gay  wings  on  their 
backs,  and  can  fly  away  out  of  my  sight  whenever  they  choose  ! 
Ah !  how  silly  some  people  are,  in  spite  of  their  painted  clothes 
and  the  gold-dust  on  their  wings  !  " 

However,  the  poor  Butterfly  was  dead,  and  there  lay  the  eggs 
on  the  cabbage  leaf ;  and  the  green  Caterpillar  had  a  kind  heart, 
so  she  resolved  to  do  her  best.  But  she  got  no  sleep  that  night, 
she  was  so  very  anxious.  She  made  her  back  quite  ache  with 
walking  all  night  round  her  young  charges,  for  fear  any  harm 
should  happen  to  them ;  and  in  the  morning,  says  she  to  herself : 
'*  Two  heads  are  better  than  one.  I  will  consult  some  wise 
animal  upon  the  matter,  and  get  advice.  How  should  a  poor, 
crawling  creature  like  me  know  what  to  do  without  asking  my 
betters?" 

But  still  there  was  a  difficulty — ^whom  should  the  Caterpillar 
consult?  There  was  the  shaggy  Dog  who  sometimes  came  into 
the  garden.  But  he  was  so  rough  ! — he  would  most  likely  whisk 
all  the  eggs  off  the  cabbage  leaf  with  one  brush  of  his  tail,  if 
she  called  him  near  to  talk  to  her,  and  then  she  should  never 
forgive  herself.     There  was  the  Tom  Cat,  to  be  sure,  who  would 


I 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  309 

sometimes  sit  at  the  foot  of  the  apple  tree,  basking  himself  and 
warming  his  fur  in  the  sunshine  ;  but  he  was  so  selfish  and  indif- 
ferent ! — there  was  no  hope  of  his  giving  himself  the  trouble  to 
think  about  Butterflies'  eggs.  '*  I  wonder  which  is  the  wisest 
of  all  the  animals  I  know,"  sighed  the  Caterpillar  in  great  dis- 
tress ;  and  then  she  thought,  and  thought,  till  at  last  she  thought 
of  the  Lark ;  and  she  fancied  that  because  he  went  up  so  high, 
and  nobody  knew  where  he  went  to,  he  must  be  very  clever  and 
know  a  great  deal ;  for  to  go  up  very  high  (which  she  could  never 
do)  was  the  Caterpillar's  idea  of  perfect  glory. 

Now  in  the  neighboring  cornfield  there  lived  a  Lark,  and  the 
Caterpillar  sent  a  message  to  him,  to  beg  him  to  come  and  talk 
to  her ;  and  when  he  came  she  told  him  all  her  difficulties,  and 
asked  him  what  she  was  to  do  to  feed  and  rear  the  little  creatures 
so  different  from  herself. 

**  Perhaps  you  will  be  able  to  inquire  and  hear  something 
about  it  next  time  you  go  up  high,"  observed  the  Caterpillar, 
timidly. 

The  Lark  said,  **  Perhaps  he  should ;  "  but  he  did  not  satisfy 
her  curiosity  any  further.  Soon  afterwards,  however,  he  went 
singing  upward  into  the  bright  blue  sky.  By  degrees  his  voice 
died  away  in  the  distance,  till  the  green  Caterpillar  could  not 
hear  a  sound.  It  is  nothing  to  say  she  could  not  see  him ;  for, 
poor  thing !  she  never  could  see  far  at  any  time,  and  had  a  diffi- 
culty in  looking  upwards  at  all,  even  when  she  reared  herself  up 
most  carefully,  which  she  did  now ;  but  it  was  of  no  use,  so  she 
dropped  upon  her  legs  again,  and  resumed  her  walk  round  the 
Butterfly's  eggs,  nibbling  a  bit  of  the  cabbage  leaf  now  and  then 
as  she  moved  along. 

**  What  a  time  the  Lark  has  been  gone  !  "  she  cried  at  last. 
**  I  wonder  where  he  is  just  now !  I  would  give  ail  my  legs  to 
know !  He  must  have  flown  up  higher  than  usual  this  time,  I 
do  think.  How  I  should  like  to  know  where  it  is  that  he  goes  to 
and  what  he  hears  in  that  curious  blue  sky  !  He  always  sings  in 
going  up  and  coming  down,  but  he  never  lets  any  secret  out. 
He  is  very,  very  close  !  " 

And  the  green  Caterpillar  took  another  turn  round  the  But- 
terfly's eggs.  ,.'  -<-  p 


310  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

At  last  the  Lark's  voice  began  to  be  heard  again.  The  Cater- 
pillar almost  jumped  for  joy,  and  it  was  not  long  before  she  saw 
her  friend  descend  with  hushed  note  to  the  cabbage  bed. 

** News,  news,  glorious  news,  friend  Caterpillar!"  sang  the 
Lark ;  **  but  the  worst  of  it  is,  you  won't  believe  me." 

*'  I  believe  everything  I  am  told,"  observed  the  Caterpillar, 
hastily. 

**Well,  then,  first  of  all,  I  will  tell  you  what  these  little  crea- 
tures are  to  eat,"  and  the  Lark  nodded  his  beak  towards  the 
eggs.     **  What  do  you  think  it  is  to  be?     Guess  !  " 

**Dew,  and  honey  out  of  flowers,  I  am  afraid,"  sighed  .the 
Caterpillar. 

**No  such  thing,  old  lady!  Something  simpler  than  that. 
Something  that  you  can  get  at  quite  easily." 

**I  can  get  at  nothing  quite  easily  but  cabbage  leaves,"  mur- 
mured the  Caterpillar,  in  distress. 

"  Excellent !  my  good  friend,"  cried  the  Lark,  exultingly  ;  **  you 
have  found  it  out.     You  are  to  feed  them  with  cabbage  leaves." 

^' Never!''  cried  the  Caterpillar,  indignantly.  **It  was  their 
dying  mother's  last  request  that  I  should  do  no  such  thing." 

**  Their  dying  mother  knew  nothing  about  the  matter,"  per- 
sisted the  Lark ;  **  but  why  do  you  ask  me,  and  then  disbelieve 
what  I  say?     You  have  neither  faith  nor  trust." 

**  Oh  !  I  believe  everything  I  am  told,"  said  the  Caterpillar. 

**  Nay,  but  you  do  not,"  replied  the  Lark ;  **  you  won't  believe 
me  even  about  the  food,  and  yet  that  is  but  a  beginning  of  what 
I  have  to  tell  you.  Why,  Caterpillar,  what  do  you  think  those 
little  eggs  will  turn  out  to  be  ?  " 

**  Butterflies  to  be  sure,"  said  the  Caterpillar. 

'^  Caterpillars r'  sang  the  Lark;  ''and  you'll  find  it  out  in 
time  ;  "  and  the  Lark  flew  away,  for  he  did  not  want  to  stay  and 
contest  the  point  with  his  friend. 

**I  thought  the  Lark  had  been  wise  and  kind,"  observed  the 
mild,  green  Caterpillar,  once  more  beginning  to  walk  round  the 
eggs,  *'but  I  find  that  he  is  foolish  and  saucy  instead.  Perhaps 
he  went  up  too  high  this  time.  Ah,  it's  a  pity  when  people  who 
soar  so  high  are  silly  and  rude  nevertheless  !  Dear  !  I  still  won- 
der whom  he  sees  and  what  he  does  up  yonder." 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  311 

**  I  would  tell  you  if  you  would  believe  me/'  sang  the  Lark, 
descending  once  more. 

**I  believe  everything  I  am  told,*'  reiterated  the  Caterpillar, 
with  as  grave  a  face  as  if  it  were  a  fact. 

**  Then  I'll  tell  you  something  else,"  cried  the  Lark ;  **  tor  the 
best  of  my  news  remains  behind :  You  will  one  day  be  a  Butterfly 
yourself.'^ 

''Wretched  bird  !  "  exclaimed  the  Caterpillar,  '*  you  jest  with 
my  inferiority.  Now  you  are  cruel  as  well  as  foolish.  Go  awav  ! 
I  will  ask  your  advice  no  more." 

'*  I  told  you  you  would  not  believe  me,"  cried  the  Lark,  nettled 
in  his  turn. 

**  I  believe  everything  that  I  am  told,"  persisted  the  Cater- 
pillar; *'that  is'' — and  she  hesitated — "  everything  that  is  rea- 
sonable to  believe.  But  to  tell  me  that  Butterflies'  eggs  are 
Caterpillars,  and  that  Caterpillars  leave  off  crawling  and  get 
wings,  and  become  Butterflies ! — Lark !  you  are  too  wise  to 
believe  such  nonsense  yourself,  for  you  know  it  is  impossible  !  " 

**I  know  no  such  thing,"  said  the  Lark,  warmly.  **  Whether 
I  hover  over  the  cornfields  of  earth,  or  go  up  into  the  depths  of 
the  sky,  I  see  so  many  wonderful  things,  I  know  no  reason  why 
there  should  not  be  more.  O  Caterpillar;  it  is  because  you 
crawl,  because  you  never  get  beyond  your  cabbage  leaf,  that  vou 
call  any  thing  impossible. ' ' 

'* Nonsense  !"  shouted  the  Caterpillar.  ''I  know  what's  pos- 
sible, and  what's  not  possible,  according  to  my  experience  and 
capacity,  as  well  as  you  do.  Look  at  my  long,  green  body  and 
these  endless  legs,  and  then  talk  to  me  about  having  wings  and 
a  painted  feathery  coat.     Fool !  " — 

"And  fool  you!  you  would-be-wise  Caterpillar!"  cried  the 
indignant  Lark.  **  Fool,  to  attempt  to  reason  about  what  you 
cannot  understand  !  Do  you  not  hear  how  my  song  swells  with 
rejoicing  as  I  soar  upwards  to  the  mysterious  wonder-world 
above?  O  Caterpillar ;  what  comes  to  you  from  thence,  receive, 
as  /do,  upon  trust." 

''  That  is  what  you  call  "— 

^' Faith,' ^  interrupted  the  Lark. 

**  How  am  I  to  learn  faith?  "  asked  the  Caterpillar. 


312  IN  TliE  child's  world. 

At  that  moment  she  felt  something  at  her  side.  She  looked 
round — eight  or  ten  little  green  Caterpillars  were  moving  about, 
and  had  already  made  a  show  of  a  hole  in  the  cabbage  leaf. 
They  had  broken  from  the  Butterfly's  eggs  ! 

Shame  and  amazement  filled  our  green  friend's  heart,  but  joy 
soon  followed ;  for,  as  the  first  wonder  was  possible,  the  second 
might  be  so,  too.  ** Teach  me  your  lesson.  Lark!"  she  would 
say ;  and  the  Lark  sang  to  her  of  the  wonders  of  the  earth  below 
and  of  the  heaven  above.  And  the  Caterpillar  talked  all  the 
rest  of  her  life  to  her  relations  of  the  time  when  she  should  be  a 
Butterfly. 

But  none  of  them  believed  her.  She  nevertheless  had  learned 
the  Lark's  lesson  of  faith,  and  when  she  was  going  into  her 
chrysalis  grave,  she  said,  *'  I  shall  be  a  Butterfly  some  day !  " 

But  her  relations  thought  her  head  was  wandering,  and  they 
said,  **  Poor  thing  !  "  u.Ai.{i'.)iy:j 

And  when  she  was  a  Butterfly,  and  was  going  to  die  again,  Shei 
said:  **I  have  known  many  wonders — I  have  faith — I  can  trust 
even  now  for  what  shall  come  next. 


td 


«J 


,:ii 


^Margaret  Gatty.'  ^ 
Pamhles  from  Nature,      ^afliili  ' 

i;ov  .tr.rii  .Icrjl  a^^edd^o  laOY  bnovod  ion  idvan  v,o\  3gu£0i>d  Jwjsio 

huR  son'>iioqx-3  \m  ol  gnibiooo^.  ^'jldisgoq  ion  z'jrrlw  ha&  .o!-'':: 
UnB  ^bo6  0301^  t^nol  ym  1r  iooJ     .ob  uo\  sjs.  I: 
i->as^  2;gttiv/  ^nivsd  ix/odii  am   o.l  ~A\r]  n^nj  bns  ,8^oi  c-d^Sibiib  ocio; .} 

— ^'\ioo*i     Jjaoo  Y'larfJ-Bsi  b9inr£CT  c 
■^lii  boiio  "  !  ifJIiqigjijO   32lw-od-LIucw  t;0'{  '  uo-y;  loci  £^nA  " 

tDod.E  rioa.S9i  oi  jqniDiiii  oi  Joo''i  '*     .:hrJ  larn^ifc:;: 

;  ^.iroa  Yirr  wori  iBSfl  ion  t/oy  cQ     !  tfi£iai3bni;  icnnio 

how-iabnovA  tiuoiioiZYni    orii   oi   abi^wqu.  lEoa   I  8£   ^moioi:.-! 

,3713001  ,3onr;fU  moii  uo\  oi  gomoo  i^riw  ;i£iIiqi?iBO  O     ^svodis 

",i2i/ii  noqu  ,ob  \  cb 
— *'  IIjso  uoy  ijsriw  21  iJjrfT  »" 
.jiijsJ  srii  fcojquTisim  ''.MXc'^** 
.ir>IiiqT-ijr,0  5ff  j  boxeB  *^  'irfiUEl  mssl  oi  I  tnR  wcH  ** 


,a'J5TO*v  \^\r. 


,.  .THE  CATEEIPILLAR.       T 

To  THE  Teacher: — 

Whoever  has  once  had  the  pleasure  of 
bringing  the  beautiful  marvel  of  the  cat- 
erpillar's metamorphosis  to  a  child's 
notice  will  scarcely  need  any  other 
incentive  than  the  d^ight  of  that  expe- 
rience to  lead  her  to  repeat  it  as  often  as 
possible.  Perhaps  there  are  some  people  who  only  know  the  wonder  by 
hearsay,  and  accept  it  indifferently  among  other  zoological  facts.  Let 
me  tell  you,  friends,  the  world  has  a  new  delight  to  offer  you.  Do  not  forego 
it  any  longer.  Get  a  box,  fill  it  half  full  of  earth  and  fasten  a  piece  of  netting 
over  the  top. 

When  you  see  a  caterpillar  on  plant  or  tree,  capture  him  and  place  him  in 
this  box,  taking  care  also  to  break  oflE  some  leaves  of  that  particular  plant  or 
tree  for  him  to  eat.  Keep  the  caterpillar  supplied  with  food,  and  then  watch 
and  wait,  and  you  will  surely  be  repaid  for  your  trouble. 

The  caterpillar  which  feeds  on  the  milkweed  is  a  very  obliging  creature.  I 
remember  how  a  dozen  of  them  hung  themselves  under  my  window  at  the 
farmhouse;  and  some  were  even  so  kind  as  to  split  their  old  coats  and  drop 
them  ofiE  while  we  watched  them.  And  when  the  marvelous  chrysalis  appeared ! 
— vivid  green  with  tiny  spots  of  bright  gold! — and  when  my  first  little  butterfly 
crawled  out.  Gripping  and  bedraggled  looking,  to  be  sure,  but  soon  as  gay  a 
creature  as  ever  spread  wings! — ah!  there  are  few  pleasures  like  the  pleasure 
of  that  experience.  This  change  of  outward  form,  while  the  inner  life  con- 
tinues uninterruptedly,  is  one  of  nature's  most  beautiful  symbolisms,  and  every 
child  should  be  in  possession  of  it. 

While  the  teacher  and  children  are  watching  the  miracle,  the  work  and  play 
in  the  kindergarten  will,  of  course,  illustrate  the  same  idea. 

A  good  series  in  clay  is  first  a  leaf  with  tiny  eggs  upon  it;  then  the  cater- 
pillar; then  the  chrysalis  (or  cocoon  if  your  caterpillar  makes  one);  the  butter- 
fly or  moth  is  rather  difi&cult,  but  is  an  interesting  and  valuable  lesson.  Model 
the  parts  separately. 

In  the  butterfly  game,  the  change  which  is  now  made  from  "  a  little  worm  is 
on  the  ground"  to  "  a  caterpillar's  on  the  ground"  is  a  welcome  one  as  being 
nearer  the  truth.  A  worm  lives  and  dies  a  worm.  It  does  not  turn  into  a 
butterfly. 

Neither  does  the  chrysalis  break  up  into  numerous  butterflies,  as  one  could 
but  infer  from  seeing  the  game  as  played  in  some  kindergartens.  "But," 
says  one  of  these  kindergartners,  "  it  is  so  pretty,  and  gives  so  many  children 


314  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

something  to  do  in  the  game."  "And  then,"  says  another,  "we  must  not  be 
too  literal.  Children  are  natural  poets.  We  must  give  them  poetic  interpreta- 
tions." 

Are  the  kindergarten  games,  then,  merely  pretty  spectacles  or  merely  outlets 
for  the  efiEervescence  of  childhood.?  The  teacher  who  finds  nothing  more  in 
the  games,  and  the  one  who  thoughtlessly  allows  the  playing  of  the  games  to 
degenerate  into  these,  has  missed  a  vital  point  in  Froebel's  theory. 

The  kindergarten  surely  provides  ample  scope  for  the  development  of  the 
child's  imagination.  There  will  be  no  danger  of  hampering  it,  however  care- 
ful we  are  as  to  the  accuracy  of  all  the  impressions  we  give  in  the  plays  and 
songs.  And,  if  any  impressions  last,  be  sure  that  the  false  ones,  given  in  our 
strivings  against  being  too  literal,  will  last  as  long  as  any  of  the  others. 

To  return  to  the  part  of  the  butterfly  game  which  is  under  discussion.  In 
some  kindergartens  the  game  is  made  a  true  representation  as  well  as  a  charm- 
ing play. 

After  the  butterfly  has  emerged,  the  winds  whistle  and  blow  the  empty 
chrysalis  about  and  break  it  into  pieces.  As  the  one  butterfly  from  the  chrysa- 
lis flits  here  and  there  seeking  honey,  it  discovers  other  butterflies  (children 
previously  chosen)  hiding  among  the  flowers. 

Many  other  ways  might  be  suggested,  but  whatever  may  be  the  way  in  which 
this  or  any  representative  game  is  played,  let  it  be  one  which  is  essentially  true 
and  according  to  nature. 

As  to  the  untrue //W^  being  more  "poetic,"  is  that  really  the  case?  Ready 
to  my  hand  I  find  a  quotation  from  an  essay  "  On  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Na- 
ture," by  Prof.  J.  C.  Shairp:— 

"  Every  new  province  of  knowledge  which  science  conquers,  poetry  may  in  turn 
enter  into  and  possess.  *  *  *  *  And  here  we  see  how  finely  science  and 
poetry  may  interact  and  minister  to  each  other." 

Wordsworth  also  affirms  that  "  the  remotest  discoveries  of  the  chemist,  the 
botanist  and  the  mineralogist "  (if  familiarized  to  men)  are  "  as  proper  objects  of  the 
poefs  art  as  any  upon  which  it  can  be  employed.'''' 

Shall  we  not,  then,  trust  the  word  of  critic  and  poet  regarding  these  relations, 
and  avoid  putting  science  and  poetry  in  opposition,  when  they  may  so  beauti- 
fully agree.'' 

E.  P 

The  Kindergarten  Magazine. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  315 


THE  TALK. 

We  are  going  to  have  some  pets  in  the  kindergarten.  When 
we  keep  pets  we  must  be  very  careful  to  make  them  comfortable 
and  happy. 

What  pets  have  you  at  home?  What  do  they  need?  Food 
and  shelter  for  comfort ;  love,  shown  by  kindness  and  petting, 
for  happiness. 

The  little  pets  which  we  shall  have  here  will  need  food  and 
air.  The  kindest  thing  we  can  do  for  them  is  to  give  them 
plenty  of  fresh  leaves  of  just  the  kind  they  like ;  they  do  not 
seem  to  care  for  anything  else. 

What  shape  is  the  caterpillar's  body?  What  is  it  covered  with? 
What  colors  do  you  see  on  it?  How  does  it  move?  How  many 
legs  at  the  front  part  of  its  body?  At  the  back  part?  Those 
at  the  front  part  are  its  real  feet ;  the  short,  thick  ones  at  the 
back  are  only  folds  of  the  skin  to  help  the  caterpillar  to  cling  to 
leaves  and  stems,  and  to  support  his  body  as  he  crawls. 

Somebody  with  very  sharp  eyes  may  come  and  look  at  the  side 
of  the  caterpillar  and  tell  me  what  he  sees.  Little  spots?  Yes, 
spots  which  are  not  merely  pretty  but  which  are  very  necessary, 
for  they  are  the  caterpillar's  breathing  holes.  How  do  we 
breathe?  (An  opportunity  comes  here  for  a  hygienic  hint  con- 
cerning breathing  through  the  nostrils,  so  carefully  lined  with 
protecting  hairs,  instead ^ of  through  the  mouth.) 

How  do  fishes  breathe  ?  (Let  the  children  have  a  picture  of  a 
fish  and  point  out  the  gills.  Ask  again  how  the  caterpillar 
breathes.  Notice  its  small  eyes  and  compare  with  the  large  and 
brilliant  eye  of  the  butterfly.  The  observation  of  the  caterpillar 
should  be  carried  on  from  day  to  day.  If  you  do  not  succeed  in 
being  present  when  the  skin  is  being  cast,  you  will  at  least  find 
the  old  skin  in-  a  little  bunch  somewhere  in  the  box  or  jar ;  that 
is,  unless  your  caterpillar  belongs  to  the  kind  which  eats  its  old 
clothes  everytime  it  comes  out  in  new  ones !  The  rewards  of 
constant  watching  are  well  worth  the  trouble.) 

There  are  some  things  about  caterpillars  that  our  eyes  are  not 


316  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

sharp  enough  to  see ;  but  the  wise  men  have  used  glasses  and 
found  out  many  wonders.  They  tell  us  that  some  caterpillars 
have  a  spinning  tube  in  the  lower  lip  and  two  bags  in  the  body 
out  of  which  they  get  a  silky  stuff.  This  silky  stuff  comes  out 
through  the  spinning  tube  and  stiffens  to  a  thread  as  soon  as  the 
air  touches  it. 

When  this  kind  of  caterpillar  has  eaten  and  grown  all  it  can 
and  is  ready  to  make  its  chrysalis,  it  winds  this  fine,  filmy  thread 
all  around  itself  till  it  is  entirely  shut  in  by  a  silken  wall  with 
no  windows  or  doors,  no  opening  anywhere. 

(Show  cocoon.)  Inside  this  snug  cocoon  the  caterpillar  makes 
its  chrysalis.  Should  you  think  there  was  anything  alive  in  the 
cocoon?  Is  it  not  a  safe  resting  place  for  the  caterpillar?  And 
is  it  not  wonderful  that  the  little  creature  could  make  it? 

Other  caterpillars  make  other  kinds  of  cocoons.  Some  will 
wrap  themselves  about  with  leaves,  fastening  them  with  the 
silky  threads.  Some  of  the  hairy  caterpillars  pull  the  hairs  out 
of  their  own  bodies  and  weave  them  together.  And  some  make 
comfortable  and  safe  cocoons  out  of  bits  of  wood,  held  together 
by  the  same  home-made  silk. 

The  caterpillars  which  make  these  curious  homes  for  them- 
selves do  not  change  into  butterflies,  but  into  moths,  which  are 
very  much  like  butterflies  in  some  ways  and  different  in  others. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

The  same  as  under  «  The  Butterfly." 

Larvse,    - A.  D.  T.  Whitney 

,,  I)j)sii0ij  ^^^  *^^  Children 

The  Green  House  with  Gold  Nails  ("Kindergarten  Stories 

and  Morning  Talks  "), ^-      S.  E,  Wiltse 

A  Funny  Little  Log  House  ("  Little  Folks  in  Feather  and 

Fur"),      -        -  0.  T.Miller 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  317 


"to  jdd"    ;  ifjfijoai   ^c'  ^bsss  f':  oriT** 

qhd  [ibff  iicfofn(  !  STORIES*^''^      •-'^''   "  '■     -  "^-'  ■'^'^^^'^ 

I     J«i)  oj   ion  :^  ivJ  5r^?  i"c:T»'>-'-n  {t  r;f>7 

won  ajuiiii.iid  v:       '^ Such  a  Bcauty/*  '  '■•^'^^  ■'•^' 

"Chip-chip-chee-ee-e,  'T'"  .vrvr.  wyD  hriR  ^,^;f1iv;  'I'jii 
What  shall  our  breakfast  be-ee?  " 

sang  a  mother  bird,  her  bright  eyes  glancing  here,  there,  every- 
where. 

"  O  mother!  mother!     See-ee! 
Here  upon  the  tree-ee-e," 

sang  one  of  the  young  birds,  peeping  through  the  leafy  branches 
and  imitating  his  mother's  tones  as  well  as  he  could. 

The  mother  hopped  nearer  to  the  eager  young  bird  and  looked 
down.     There  she  spied  a  plump,  big  caterpillar  of  a  handsome 
pale  green  color  and  ornamented  with  bright  little  knobs  of  red, 
yellow  and  blue.  ,  c^aoM  'ih-<iii  bolgghT  .ti  ,noi.i.:)S'joiq  boo^  l  doin 
«  Cbip-chip-chee-ee,  -^i''^-^  ih^ni  £  skidla  OJ 

.;-•:!?,;"!    'vKr;       *i-      None  of  that  for  me-ee," .    :  r"^   ir^:.!  -r^^h   v^-}    A 

sang  the  mother  bird  in  a  most  excited  manner.  And  then  she 
called  her  young  birds  to  look  at  the  caterpillar.  She  earnestly 
told  them  to  notice  well  every  mark  upon  it,  for  it  was  not  at  all 
good  to  eat,  and  they  must  never  touch  it.  Not  only  was  this 
kind  of  caterpillar  disagreeable  to  the  taste,  but  she  had  heard 
that  it  was  poisonous. 

''Now  tell  me  just  how  it  looks,"  said  the  anxious  mother, 
**so  that  I  may  be  sure  that  you  know  and  will  never  try  to 
catch  this  kind." 

So  the  young  birds  described  the  caterpillar,  peering  down  so 
as  to  tell  exactly  how  it  looked.  They  said  that  it  was  like  new 
leaves,  or  the  lettuce  in  the  garden ;  that  it  had  some  spots  like 
tiny  cherries,  and  some  like  the  bluest  of  blueberries.  **It  is 
very  strange  that  this  caterpillar  should  not  be  good  to  eat," 
said  one  of  the  young  birds,  ''  when  it  looks  like  so  many  things 
which  are  very  good." 


318  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

'*  See,  mother,  there  are  yellow  seeds  on  its  back,  too  !  ^'  chirped 
the  other  little  bird. 

*'They  look  like  seeds,  I  know,"  said  the  mother;  **but  of 
course  they  are  not.  All  these  gay  colors  and  knobs  will  help 
you  to  remember  the  kind  of  caterpillar  you  are  not  to  eat.  I 
am  glad  it  is  such  a  beauty."  Satisfied  that  her  birdlings  now 
knew  the  pretty  caterpillar  as  an  unsafe  kind  of  food,  she  spread 
her  wings  and  flew  away,  singing : — 

"  Chip-chip-chee-ee  e  I 
Off  to  the  apple  tree-ee-e. 
Fruit  shall  our  breakfast  be. 
Away,  away  with  me." 

And  the  little  ones  followed,  trying  to  keep  up  with  her,  and 
doing  well,  considering  how  short  a  time  they  had  been  out  of 
their  nest  and  on  their  wings,  so  to  speak. 

What  about  the  caterpillar  all  this  time  ?  Oh !  it  had  been 
placidly  eating  as  usual,  not  at  all  disturbed  by  the  bird -talk 
going  on  above.  Very  well  contented  that  its  gay  coat  should  be 
such  a  good  protection,  it  wriggled  itself  along  farther  and  began 
to  nibble  a  fresh  leaf. 

A  few  days  later  the  caterpillar,  whose  appetite  had  failed, 
begun  to  feel  very  strangely. 

**  I  feel  as  if  I  should  like  to  hide  and  sleep,"  it  thought. 
'*  I  must  be  ill — I  am  so  " — 

*'  O  you  beauty  !  "  said  a  voice.  **  You  look  as  if  you  had  tiny 
red  and  yellow  and  blue  beads  sewed  on  your  back.  I  wonder 
whether  Aunt  Helen  will  not  tell  me  a  story  about  you.  Crawl 
along  here  and  get  on  this  stick — that's  right — I  won't  hurt  you." 

The  caterpillar  clung  to  the  stick,  and  the  little  boy  started 
to  get  down  from  the  tree  into  which  he  had  climbed  *' just  for 
fun."  But  getting  down  was  not  as  easy  as  climbing  up  had 
been,  and  the  little  boy  had  to  leave  the  caterpillar  on  the  tree 
after  all. 

**I'll  ask  Aunt  Helen  to  come,"  he  said  to  himself.  *'  Then 
I  can  climb  and  get  the  caterpillar  and  reach  it  down  to  her." 
So  saying  he  ran  off  to  the  house. 

**Yes,"  said  the   caterpillar,   on   finding  itself   alone   again, 


19 


320  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

''  I  think  I  had  better  hide."  And  it  did.  It  crawled  off  a  little 
way  from  where  the  boy  had  left  it,  and  began  to  spin  imme- 
diately. 

By  the  time  the  little  boy  had  reached  the  house  and  had 
found  Aunt  Helen,  and  she  had  finished  some  work  which  she 
could  not  leave,  and  they  had  both  reached  the  tree  at  the  end 
of  the  garden,  the  caterpillar  had  wound  a  mesh  of  silk  about 
itself  and  could  no  longer  be  seen.  The  little  boy  was  greatly 
puzzled  as  he  looked  in  vain  for  the  green  caterpillar. 

**It  was  such  a  big  fellow,  auntie — as  big  as  your  thumb.  I 
thought  it  would  be  too  clumsy  to  get  far  away.  I  wish  I  could 
find  it.  I  never  saw  such  a  pretty  caterpillar — such  a  perfect 
beauty !  " 

*'I  know  where  it  is,"  said  Aunt  Helen.  "  I  see  a  cocoon  up 
there,  and  I  am  sure  your  caterpillar  must  be  in  it.  Just  break 
that  twig  off  gently — that  one  which  has  something  fastened  to 
it — and  reach  it  down  to  me.  This  is  part  of  the  story,"  she 
added,  with  a  smile,  as  she  saw  how  puzzled  the  little  boy  was. 

**0h!  is  it?  "  he  exclaimed,  hastening  to  break  off  the  twig 
and  to  hand  it  to  her.  In  a  twinkling  he  was  down  from  the 
tree,  all  eagerness  for  the  explanation.  So  they  sat  in  the  swing 
and  Aunt  Helen  told  him  the  whole  story  then  and  there ;  and 
several  months  later,  the  little  boy  ran  to  his  auntie,  saying: 
**  The  story  has  come  true  !  There's  a  beautiful  moth,  oh  !  such 
a  beauty  !  flying  about  in  my  room,  and  the  cocoon  is  empty." 

E.  P. 


\ 


,:>i  lA'T'  HH"r 


THE  FARMER. 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


This  talk  treats  more  especially  of  the  farmer's  spring  work  of  preparation, 
since  we  reviewed,  during  the  harvest  season,  the  farmer's  summer  work  and 
dwelt  upon  its  results 

For  city  children,  have  as  many  pictures  of  farm  life  as  possible.  A  box  in 
the  window  planted  with  corn  and  beans  will  be  a  miniature  field  and  the  chil- 
dren will  feel  themselves  farmers  in  the  care  of  it. 

Watching  the  growth  of  seeds  planted  by  themselves  will  be  a  delightful  ex- 
perience to  the  children. 

Besides  the  seeds  planted  in  earth,  some  should  be  grown  without  earth,  that 
the  roots  may  be  observed.  Let  a  piece  of  cotton  batting  float  on  some  water 
in  a  tumbler,  and  lay  two  or  three  beans  on  the  cotton.  Replenish  the  water 
when  necessary.  Beans  are  very  satisfactory  because  of  their  size  and  famil- 
iarity. Peas  are  also  good,  and  corn  will  give  an  example  of  the  contrasting 
endogenous  plants. 

In  the  explanation  of  the  "  Grass-Mowing  "  play,  Froebel  says :  "  Early  and 
and  whenever  it  is  at  all  possible,  we  ought  to  make  the  chain  of  conditions  and 
relations  visible  which  must  be  gone  through  and  fulfilled  before  it  is  possi- 
ble to  say  simply,  '  Go  away  and  get  this  or  that  person  to  give  you  bread  or 
something  else.'  "  Therefore  it  is  not  enough  that  we  help  the  children, 
(through  games,  songs,  stories  and  talks,)  to  enter  into  the  farmer's  life  and 
work;  we  must  try  to  make  visible  the  chain  of  conditions  and  relations  by 
which  all  life  is  bound  together.  This  thought  also  underlies  the  talks  on  "  The 
Baker  "and  "The  Cow." 


322 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


THE  TALK. 


I  am  thinking  of  a  worker — one 
■who  works  out  of  doors  instead  of 
in  a  shop. 

Can  you  guess  what  worker  I 
mean?     It  is  the  farmer.     Do  you 
remember  any  one  we  have  talked 
of  lately    who   wished    to    be    a 
farmer?      (Froebel) . 
Let  us  play  we  are  all  visiting  at  a  farm 
in  the   springtime.     What  shall  we  hear 
early  in  the  morning?     The  cocks  crow- 
ing, the  pigeons  cooing,  other  birds  sing- 
ing, the  cattle  lowing,  being  so  eager  to 
get  out  to  pasture — all  the  farmyard  noises. 
What  shall  we  see  ?     The  big  barn  and 

Sjl  farmyard   where    the    animals    live,   the 

I  pigeon  house  on  its  tall  pole,  the  orchard 

/^  jP\  where  the  trees  are  standing  in  even  rows, 

the  gardens  for  flowers  and  vegetables, 
great  fields  stretching  away,  and  woods  in 
the  distance.  (Some  of  the  children  who 
have  been  to  the  country  will  be  ready  to 
contribute  to  this  description.  Contrast 
with  city  sights  and  sounds.) 

What  places  in  the  city  look  a  little  like  the  country?  The 
Common,  Public  Garden,  etc.,  (whatever  parks  the  children  are 
familiar  with) ,  because  of  the  trees  and  grass  and  space. 

The  people  at  the  farm  are  up  very  early ;  for  the  cattle  and 
poultry  must  be  fed  and  the  cows  milked,  and  the  farmer  wishes 
to  get  out  to  his  fields  very  soon.     He  has  so  much  to  do. 

In  the  spring  he  must  plough  his  fields — this  breaks  the  soil 
which  has  been  getting  hard  and  packed  together  all  winter — 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  323 

then  he  must  harrow  them  *'to  make  the  ground  more  soft  and 
loose." 

(Describe  plough  and  harrow,  and  speak  of  the  usefulness  of 
the  horse  to  the  farmer.) 

When  the  ground  is  ready  the  farmer  must  sow  his  seed. 
What  kinds  of  seeds  do  you  think  he  will  sow?  Grass  seed, 
barley  and  wheat,  oats,  buckwheat,  etc.  Some  kinds  he  sowed 
last  autumn,  and  they  have  been  waiting  all  winter  for  the  spring 
warmth  and  the  spring  rains  before  they  sprouted  and  sent  out 
their  green  blades. 

How  will  these  crops  be  useful?  What  else  will  the  farmer 
probably  plant?  Com,  beans,  potatoes,  etc.,  and  sometimes 
trees.  What  do  all  seeds  need  to  make  them  grow?  Earth,  sun- 
shine, rain. 

Besides  the  plowing  and  the  planting  and  the  raking,  the 
farmer  has  other  spring  work  to  do.  He  must  cut  off  the  dead 
and  useless  branches  of  the  trees  in  the  orchard  and  of  the  vines 
where  the  grapes  grow.  Very  early  in  the  spring  he  gathers  sap 
from  some  of  the  trees.  Who  can  tell  what  kind  of  trees,  and 
what  he  makes  of  the  sap? 

What  tools  does  the  farmer  use?  Plough,  harrow,  spade,  hoe, 
rake,  pitchfork,  etc.  Tell  some  other  things  he  needs  in  his 
work.  Ladders  to  enable  him  to  reach  the  high  branches  of  the 
trees,  baskets  and  barrels  for  his  eggs  and  fruit  and  vegetables, 
milk  pails  and  milk  cans,  churn,  etc.,  etc.  (Many  of  these  can 
be  made  in  clay  and  other  kindergarten  materials.) 

Tell  all  the  things  we  use  which  come  from  the  farm.  Do  we 
not  use  some  of  these  things  every  day?  Let  us  not  forget  how 
much  we  have  for  which  we  must  thank  the  good  farmer. 


324  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Nature,    ------------    Emerson 

yij  Summer  in  a  Garden,  -        -        -        -        -        -        "CD.  Warner 

Hiawatha's  Fasting,        T  r     ^  n 

Blessing  the  Cornfields  J l^ngfellow 

The  Barefoot  Boy, Whittier 

Farmyard  Song,       --------J.  T.  Trowbridge 

Up  at  a  Villa,  Down  in  a  City,  ------./?.  Browning 

The  Rescue  of  an  Old  Place,  _        -        -        -        .         Mary  C.  Robbins 

Rosanna,  ---------  Miss  Edgeworth 

For  the  Children, 

Queen  Hildegarde,  -        -        -        -        --        -        -  Laura  Richards 

The  Farmyard,  ("  Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning  Talks"  ),       S.  E.  Wiltse 
The  Farmer  and  his  Sons,         --------        y^op 


STORIES, 
A  Barnyard  Talk^ 

{From  the  Norwegian.') 

'*  Cock-a-doodle-doo  !  "  crowed  the  Cock  early  in  the  morning. 
**I  am  the  cleverest  of  all  on  the  farm.  Every  morning  I  wake 
the  people  up  so  that  the  children  can  get  to  school  at  the  right 
time,  and  not  have  to  stay  in  for  being  late.  That  is  the  reason 
the  children  like  me  so  much.  They  feed  me  with  corn  and 
bread  every  day." 

"Cluck,  cluck!"  said  the  Hen.  **You  ought  not  to  be  so 
conceited,  little  father.  You  never  give  the  children  anything 
to  eat,  but  /  do  !  Almost  every  day  I  lay  an  egg ;  and  with  my 
eggs  pancakes  are  made  for  the  children,  and  they  like  pancakes 
so  much  that  they  would  gladly  eat  them  every  day.  Under- 
stand, then,  that  I  am  cleverer  than  you." 

*'Mew,  mew,  mew,"  said  Pussy-cat,  who  had  heard  the  Cock 
and  Hen  talking.  **  It  is  really  I  who  am  the  cleverest,"  said 
she.  **  If  I  did  not  kill  all  the  rats  and  mice,  then  those  wicked 
animals  would  come  and  eat  up  all  the  butter  and  cheese  and  all 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  325 

the  bread  and  cake,  so  that  the  ohildren  would  have  to  go  to 
school  without  any  luncheon  and  would  sit  there  and  starve  1 
That  is  the  reason  the  children  and  I  are  such  good  friends. 
They  give  me  milk  and  let  me  sit  on  their  laps.' 

*'Bow,  wow,  wow !  "  said  the  Dog.  He  had  put  his  head  out 
of  the  kennel  when  he  heard  how  Pussy  was  boasting.  **  How 
do  you  think  things  would  go  if  I  didn't  watch  over  the  house 
night  and  day?  So  I  am  surely  the  most  important  one  on  the 
farm." 

Just  then  up  came  the  farmer,  who  had  overheard  everything. 

''You  are  all  kind  and  useful,"  said  he.  And  he  scattered 
corn  to  the  Cock  and  Hen,  and  gave  Puss  a  saucer  of  milk,  and 
the  Dog  a  bone  to  gnaw. 

Then  they  were  all  happy  and  satisfied  and  stopped  disputing. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


The  Farmer  and  the  Birds* 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brown  Thrush  thought  themselves  very  fortu- 
nate when  they  found  a  large  brush  heap  in  which  they  could 
make  their  nest.  But  one  day,  after  the  nest  was  finished  and 
the  eggs  were  laid,  Mr.  Thrush  heard  some  news  which  made 
him  change  his  mind. 

*'  Oh  !  my  dear,"  he  said  to  his  wife  when  she  came  home  after 
her  daily  exercise,  "  we  have  made  a  mistake.  This  brush  heap, 
that  we  thought  was  such  a  good  place  for  our  nest,  is  to  be 
burned  to-morrow !  What  shall  we  do  ?  Our  eggs  will  all  be 
ruined ! " 

"Oh,  no!"  said  Mrs.  Thrush,  "they  will  not  be  harmed.  I 
will  watch  for  the  master  to-morrow  and  show  him  that  I  have 
a  nest  here,  and  he  will  not  burn  it  up.  Have  you  not  noticed 
how  many  birds  there  are  on  the  place?  The  master  never 
allows  any  one  to  hurt  them.  In  fact,  the  red  birds  and  mock- 
ing birds,  who  stay  here  all  winter,  tell  me  that  he  puts  food 
where  they  can  get  it  when  they  can  find  none  themselves." 

"Then,"  said  Mr.  Thrush,  "perhaps  he  will  spare  our  nest. 
You  can  try,  at  any  rate." 


336  IN  THE  child's  world. 

So  the  next  day,  when  the«  master  came  near  the  brush  heap, 
Mrs.  Thrush  flew  to  a  tree  growing  close  by,  and  then  back  to 
her  nest  again,  several  times. 

"Robert,"  said  the  master  to  the  man  who  helped  him  on  the 
farm,  "  see  that  thrush !  She  acts  as  if  she  had  a  nest  in  that 
brush  heap.  Yes,  she  has  !  I  can  see  it.  It  will  not  do  to  burn 
the  brush  now,  for  that  would  destroy  her  nesst ;  and  yet  I  need 
to  plough  this  ground  for  the  late  corn  that  I  want  to  raise. 
I  know  what  we  can  do.  Get  four  long  sticks  from  the  woodpile 
and  we  will  move  the  brush  away." 

Robert  brought  the  sticks;  then,  by  placing  themselves  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  brush,  crossing  the  sticks  and  putting  them 
under  the  heap,  the  two  men  moved  it  to  a  little  distance.*  After 
that  the  horse  was  fastened  to  the  plough  and  the  ground  was 
ploughed. 

Then  the  farmer  and  his  man  planted  the  com.  They  marked 
off  the  ground  into  squares  of  four  feet  each,  made  a  hole  at  each 
comer  of  the  squares,  put  three  or  four  kernels  of  corn  into  each 
hole,  drew  the  earth  over  the  corn  with  a  hoe  and  pressed  it 
down  with  the  foot  to  make  it  firm,  so  that  it  might  keep  moist 
longer  after  the  next  rain.  Meantime,  Mrs.  Thrush,  anxious  to 
cover  her  eggs,  had  flown  back  to  the  nest  as  soon  as  the  men 
had  left  the  brush  heap ;  and  she  sat  looking  contentedly  on  at 
their  work. 

Some  days  later  a  rainstorm  came.  The  bird's  eggs  did  not 
get  wet,  however,  for  these  were  kept  warm  and  dry  under  the 
mother's  wing;  but  the  raindrops  trickled  down  into  the  earth 
and  gave  the  kernels  of  corn  a  drink.  After  drinking  the  water 
the  kemels  began  to  swell.  They  kept  swelling  more  and  more 
until  at  last  a  baby  leaf  burst  the  skin,  pushed  its  way  up  and 
came  out  of  the  ground.  The  little  leaf  was  folded  tightly  at 
first,  but  after  a  while  it  spread  itself  out.  Then  the  stalk 
began  to  grow  longer ;  and  by  and  by  another  leaf  came  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  stalk.  The  third  leaf  grew  on  the  same  side 
of  the  stalk  as  the  first ;  and  on  which  side  do  you  suppose  the 
fourth  leaf  came  out? 

*  A  fact. 


THE  FARMER. 


328  IN  THE  child's  world. 


**0n  the  same  side  as  the  second — just  as  it  is  in  our 
weaving! " 

Yes.  And  now  can  you  tell  me  why  the  corn  did  not  have 
two  leaves  instead  of  one  at  a  time  ? 

**  When  we  soaked  a  kernel  of  corn  and  cut  it  open,  we  found 
only  one  baby  leaf  in  it,  besides  the  food  for  the  baby  plant  to 
eat  until  it  could  feed  itself  from  the  earth  and  the  air.  So  it 
could  not  make  more  than  one  leaf  at  a  time." 

You  are  right.  But  I  should  have  told  you  that  the  corn  war 
making  roots  at  the  same  time  that  it  made  stalk  and  leaves,  so 
that  it  had  roots  by  which  to  suck  in  food  from  the  earth,  and 
leaves  by  which  to  suck  in  food  from  the  air ;  and  with  all  this 
food  it  grew  very  fast.  The  master  took  care  that  the  weeds 
should  not  choke  it. 

As  soon  as  the  corn  was  up  a  few  inches,  the  master  directed 
Robert  to  go  over  the  ground  with  a  harrow.  This  destroyed  all 
the  weeds  that  had  started  at  the  same  time  as  the  corn.  Then 
Robert  ploughed  the  ground  in  again,  but  was  careful  not  to 
throw  the  earth  on  the  young  corn.  After  that  the  farmer  kept 
the  weeds  from  growing  by  using  the  cultivator  once  in  a  while 
until  the  corn  was  as  high  as  his  shoulder ;  then  it  was  strong 
enough  not  to  need  his  help  any  more. 

While  the  corn  was  still  growing,  Mrs.  Thrush  heard  one 
day  a  queer  little  hammering  sound  in  the  nest ;  and  she  said 
to  her  husband :  '*  Oh !  now  our  eggs  are  ready  to  hatch.  I 
am  so  glad !  But  I  must  help  the  little  ones  to  come  out  of 
their  shells!" 

So,  with  the  mother's  help,  the  shells  were  broken  and  the 
little  birds  came  out.  Then  began  a  busy  time  for  the  parent 
birds.  The  nestlings  had  great  appetites,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thrush  brought  them  many  a  bug  and  worm  which  would  have 
hurt  the  farmer's  corn  and  other  crops  if  the  birds  had  not  eaten 
them.  The  parent  birds  thus  helped  the  farmer  who  had  been 
so  kind  to  them. 

When  the  corn  was  large  enough  the  tassels  came  and  the  ears 
of  corn  began  to  grow.  The  tassels  are  bunches  of  long,  silky 
fringe,  and  each  ear  has  a  tassel  hanging  out  of  its  busk.  A 
husk  is  made  of  several  large,  thick  leaves;  these  are  folded 


IN  THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  329 

around  an  ear  of  corn  and  keep  it  from  being  spoiled  by  the  wet 
or  eaten  by  squirrels  or  crows  while  it  is  growing. 

Mrs.  Thrush  taught  her  little  ones  to  fly,  after  which  they 
could  catch  worms  and  bugs  for  themselves.  When  they  were 
old  enough  they  left  the  nest,  but  they  stayed  on  the  farm.  And 
when  the  crop  was  ripe  and  the  farmer  was  gathering  it  so  that 
it  could  be  stored  in  the  barn  for  winter  use,  the  thrushes  sang 
their  prettiest  songs,  as  if  to  thank  the  farmer  for  saving  their 
lives  before  they  were  hatched. 

Josephine  Jarvis. 

Cobden,  III. 


Little  Gustava^ 

Little  Gustava  sits  in  the  sun, 
Safe  in  the  porcn,  and  the  little  drops  run 
Frcxn  the  icicles  under  the  eaves  so  tast, 
Fcr  tbe  bright  spring  sun  shines  warm  at  lasr. 
And  glad  is  little  Gustava. 

She  wears  a  quaint  little  scarlet  cap, 
And  a  little  green  bowl  she  holds  in  her  lap. 
Filled  with  bread  and  milk  to  the  brim, 
And  a  wreath  of  marigolds  round  the  rim ; 
"  Ha!  ha!  "  laughed  little  Gustava. 

Up  comes  her  little  gray  coaxing  cat. 
With  her  little  pink  nose,  and  she  mews,  "  What's  that.'* 
Gustava  feeds  her — she  begs  for  more; 
And  a  little  brown  hen  walks  in  at  the  door; 
"  Good  day!  "  cries  little  Gustava. 

She  scatters  crumbs  for  the  little  brown  hen. 
There  comes  a  rush  and  a  flutter,  and  then 
Down  fly  her  little  white  doves,  so  sweet. 
With  their  snowy  wings  and  their  crimson  feet. 
"  Welcome!  "  cries  little  Gustava. 

So  dainty  and  eager  they  pick  up  the  crumbs. 
But  who  is  this  through  the  doorway  comes.-* 
Little  Scotch  terrier,  little  dog  Rags, 
Looks  in  her  face,  and  his  funny  tail  wags. 
"  Ha!  ha!  "  laughs  little  Gustava. 


330  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

"  You  want  some  breakfast,  too?  "  and  down 
She  sets  her  bowl  on  the  brick  floor  brown; 
And  little  dog  Rags  drinks  up  her  milk, 
While  she  strokes  his  shaggy  locks,  like  silk; 
"  Dear  Rags,"  says  little  Gustava. 

Waiting  without  stood  sparrow  and  crow, 
Cooling  their  feet  in  the  melting  snow. 
"  Won't  you  come  in,  good  folk?  "  she  cried. 
But  they  were  too  bashful  and  stayed  outside. 

Though  "  Pray  come  in!  "  cried  Gustava. 

So  the  last  she  threw  them,  and  knelt  on  the  mat 
With  doves  and  biddy  and  dog  and  cat. 
And  her  mother  came  to  the  open  house-door: 
"  Dear  little  daughter,  I  bring  you  some  more, 
My  merry  little  Gustava. " 

Kitty  and  terrier,  biddy  and  doves, 
.  All  things  harmless,  Gustava  loves ; 
The  shy,  kind  creatures  'tis  joy  to  feed. 
And  oh !  her  breakfast  is  sweet  indeed 
To  happy  little  Gustava! 

Ceua  Thaxter 
Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co, 


THE  HEN  AND  CHICKENS. 


To  THE  Teacher:— 

With  city  children  such  subjects  as  this  call  for  much  illustration.  A  young 
chicken  was  once  the  pet  and  delight  of  a  city  kindergarten.  Sometimes  it  is 
practicable  to  take  the  children  to  see  a  "  Good  Mother  Hen  "  and  her  brood. 
At  any  rate,  pictures  of  the  common  animals  and  farmyard  scenes  may  be  had 
for  the  trouble  of  collecting,  and,  if  mounted  on  cardboard,  will  be  useful  for  a 
long  time. 


THE  TALK. 

We  have  talked  about  the  little  birds  who  fly  in  the  air  and 
live  in  the  trees.  Now  let  us  talk  of  some  other  friends  who 
are  dressed  in  feathers  and  have  wings,  but  who  are  larger  and 
live  on  the  ground.  Can  you  guess  who  these  friends  are?  We 
shall  find  them  if  we  go  to  the  farmyard. 

(If  the  children  name  the 
inhabitants  of  the  farmyard, 
the  hen  and  chickens  will  sure- 
ly be  mentioned.  In  comparing 
the  hen  and  smaller  birds,  note 
particularly  the  hen's  heavy 
body  and  short  wings,  and 
consequently  feeble  flight,  and 
the  strong  toes  for  scratching.) 

What  kind  of  a  noise  does  the  hen  make?  Does  she  lay  eggs? 
Build  a  nest?  Not  a  snug,  pretty  nest  as  the  little  birds  do. 
Usually  the  farmer  gives  her  some  hay  in  a  box  or  barrel  when 
she  wants  a  nest ;  but  sometimes  the  hen  chooses  a  place  herself 
up  in  the  hayloft  in  the  barn,  where  it  is  all  dark  and  quiet,  or 
perhaps  she  finds  a  sheltered  place  in  the  field  among  the  grasses 
which  will  hide  her  safely. 


332  IN  THE  child's  world. 

When  she  has  laid  ten  or  twelve  eggs,  she  sits  on  the  nest  day- 
after  day  and  night  after  night.  She  will  scarcely  leave  the  eggs 
to  get  what  she  needs  to  eat  and  drink.  How  long  do  you  think 
she  sits  there?  Twenty-one  days.  And  after  all  this  time  what 
happens?  One  of  these  days  the  hen  hears  a  faint  little  tapping 
and  then  a  cracking  noise,  and  one  of  the  eggshells  breaks  and 
out  comes  a  tiny,  weak  chicken !  And  soon  another  breaks  its 
shell  and  comes  out,  and  so  on  until,  instead  of  ten  white  eggs 
lying  in  the  nest,  there  are  ten  cunning  little  chickens  nestling 
in  the  hay  and  cuddling  under  the  mother  hen's  soft  feathers. 

The  chickens  are  dressed  in  very  soft,  fine  feathers,  called 
down.  This  down  is  often  bright  yellow.  As  the  mother  hen 
walks  about  with  her  dear  little  chickens  she  seems  to  say : 
**  This  is  why  I  was  willing  to  sit  still  so  long  on  those  eggs  of 
mine.     Isn't  this  joyful?  " 

When  the  farmer  sees  the  happy  mother  hen,  he  is  glad,  too ; 
but  he  is  afraid  the  chickens  will  get  tired  if  they  follow  her 
everywhere.  So  he  puts  the  mother  hen  into  a  nice  coop.  The 
chickens  run  in  and  out  of  the  coop,  and  their  mother  watches 
them  and  calls  to  them  if  any  danger  is  near.  When  she  calls 
them,  or  when  anything  frightens  them,  they  run  into  the  coop 
and  cuddle  under  her  wings.  Don't  you  know  how  glad  you  are 
to  run  to  your  mother  when  your  are  hurt  or  frightened  or  in  any 
trouble?  I  suppose  the  chickens  feel  as  safe  and  comfortable 
with  the  mother  hen's  wings  over  them  as  little  children  do  in 
their  mother's  arms. 

When  night  comes  the  mother  hen  clucks  to  her  chickens  and 
they  creep  under  her  wings  to  sleep.  By  and  by  when  they  are 
big  enough,  they  will  roost  on  perches  at  night  and  run  about  all 
day,  scratching  and  pecking,  finding  insects  and  worms  and 
seeds  to  eat,  as  the  other  big  fowls  do.  But  while  they  are  little 
their  mother  watches  them  and  takes  care  of  them  night  and  day. 

"  Where  do  the  little  chickens  run 
"When  they  are  afraid? 
Out  of  the  light,  out  of  the  sun, 
Into  the  dark,  into  the  shade. 
Under  their  mother's  downy  wing, 
No  longer  afraid  of  anything." 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  333 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Winners  in  Life's  Race  (Chaps.  VI,  VII),       -        -  -  Arabella  Buckley 

The  Song  of  Life  (Chaps.  IV,  VI),          .         -         .  .  Margaret  Morley 
Hen  Music  ("  Wood  Notes  Wild  "),          .        -        .           Simeon  Pease  Cheney 

Chickens, -        -        -  -  -     Gail  Hamiltor. 

Explanation  and  Play  of  "Beckoning  the  Chickens,"  -  -        .      Froebel 

For  the  Children. 

The  Clucking  Hen  («  Aunt  Effie's  Rhymes  "). 

Snowball  ("  Stories  for  Kindergarten  and  Home")^  -  -  M.  L.  Van  Kirk 


STORffiS- 
The  Lost  Chicken. 

Peepsie  was  lost — Peesie,  the  one  little  chicken  which  Mrs. 
Crackle,  his  mother,  was  trying  to  raise ;  and  Mrs.  Crackle  was 
very  lonely  and  sad.  She  stepped  about  the  farmyard,  lifting 
up  her  feet  very  slowly  and  looking  in  every  nook  and  corner  and 
calling,  **  Cluck,  cluck,"  in  a  loud,  anxious  way. 

The  old  barn  cat  washed  every  one  of  her  kittens  over  twice 
as  soon  as  she  heard  the  distressing  news,  so  as  to  be  sure  that 
none  of  her  babies  was  lost.  The  cows  called  their  little  bossy 
calves  close  to  them,  and  every  sheep  sought  out  her  own  lamb- 
kin, glad  enough  to  hear  it  call,  *'Ma-a!  Ma-a !  "  All  the 
mothers  told  their  children  again  and  again  not  to  stray  away 
lest  they  should  get  lost,  like  poor  little  Peepsie. 

In  the  meantime  Mrs.  Cackle,  having  looked  everywhere  in 
the  farmyard  and  having  made  sure  that  Peepsie  was  not  there, 
started  off  to  search  outside.  The  first  place  to  which  she  went 
was  the  hayfield.  The  grass  was  cut  and  spread  out  to  dry. 
Mrs.  Crackle  thought  Peepsie  might  be  hiding  under  it,  so  she 
began  to  look  and  to  call.  There  !  What  was  that?  Something 
moved,  and  Mrs.  Cackle  rushed  after  it.  Was  it  her  chicken? 
Listen  and  you  shall  hear.  Mrs.  Cackle  soon  saw  the  little  thing 
plainly  as  it  went  across  a  bare  place  in  the  field,  and  she  imme- 


334  m  THE  child's  world. 

diately  stopped  running.  It  was  a  baby,  surely :  not  half  so  big 
as  Peepsie,  however,  and  with  a  long  thread  of  a  tail  stretching 
out  behind  it.  **Why,  it  is  only  one  of  Mrs.  Field-mouse's 
children,"  said  Mrs.  Cackle  in  disappointment,  and  as  she  turned 
back  to  tell  Mrs.  Field-mouse,  she  met  that  mother  coming  to 
find  her  child.  Mrs.  Field-mouse  could  not  tell  where  Peepsie 
was,  but  had  seen  a  company  of  two-legged  little  folks  going 
down  the  lane  a  short  time  before  ;  so  Mrs.  Cackle  thanked  her  and 
passed  on. 

The  lane  led  past  the  orchard.  Hark  !  Mrs.  Cackle  heard  a 
faint  cry.  '*Can  that  be  Peepsie?"  she  thought,  and  into  the 
orchard  she  went,  guided  by  the  sound.  There,  under  one  of 
the  apple  trees,  lay  another  baby ;  but,  alas  !  this  was  not  Peepsie 
either,  although  it  had  feathers  and  a  bill  and  two  legs,  and  its 
chirp  still  sounded  something  like  Peepsie 's  to  Mrs.  Cackle,  even 
when  she  was  so  near.  But  when  this  baby  moved  it  hopped  on 
both  legs  at  once,  while  Peepsie,  of  course,  used  his  legs  quite 
properly,  one  after  the  other. 

Mrs.  Robin,  the  baby's  mother,  circled  watchfully  about  while 
Mrs.  Cackle  stood  near  the  little  one.  "  Peepsie  lost?  "  chirped 
Mrs.  Robin  when  the  poor  hen  told  her  story.  ''  Oh,  how  worried 
you  must  be  !  But  I  am  sure  he  is  not  in  the  orchard,  for  my 
mate  and  I  have  been  about  here  all  the  morning,  teaching  oiir 
little  ones  to  fly,  and  we  should  have  seen  him." 

Poor  Mrs.  Cackle  decided  that  she  would  go  on  farther  down 
the  lane  to  look  for  her  stray  darling;  and  the  happy  Robin 
family  continued  their  flying  lesson,  though  Mrs.  Robin  felt  very 
sorry  about  Peepsie  and  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  him. 

Down  the  lane  went  Mrs.  Cackle,  but  before  she  had  gone 
very  far  she  met  Mother  Duck.  Now  Mother  Duck  had  gone 
out  so  early  from  the  farmyard  that  she  had  not  heard  of  Peep- 
sie's  being  lost,  and  when  Mrs.  Cackle  told  her  she  said :  **  Alack  ! 
Alack  !  But  perhaps,  friend  Cackle,  your  Peepsie  has  been  with 
my  children  this  morning.  I'll  call  the  whole  company  here  and 
you  may  see  for  yourself."  So  Mrs.  Cackle  looked  at  all  the  long 
train  of  little  folks  which  was  following  Mother  Duck.  One  by 
one  they  filed  past  her,  but  alas  for  Mrs.  Cackle  !  she  knew  at 
the  first  glance  at  each  one  that  it  was  not  Peepsie  ;  for,  instead 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.    '  335 

of  Peepsie's  sharp-pointed  bill,  Mother  Duck's  children  had 
broad,  flat  bills  which  Mrs.  Cackle  thought  must  be  very  diffi- 
cult to  eat  with,  and  instead  of  pretty,  slender,  separate  toes 
useful  for  scratching,  these  little  folks  had  their  toes  joined  to- 
gether by  a  sort  of  skin ;  and  then  they  walked  so  awkwardly — 
at  least,  so  Mrs.  Cackle  thought.  *'My  Peepsie  is  not  there,*' 
she  said  to  Mother  Duck.  "You  are  sure,  are  you?"  replied 
the  Duck,  **  because  if  you  are  not,  we  could  go  to  our  pond  and 
then  we  could  tell ;  for  all  my  own  children  can  swim,  and  I 
believe  yours  are  like  yourself — very  timid  about  water."  Mrs. 
Cackle  was  sure,  however,  so  she  said  "  Good-bye  "  and  **  Thank 
you"  to  Mother  Duck,  and  turned  back  toward  the  farmyard, 
while  '*  Mother  Duck  and  her  family  large  "  went  to  their  pond. 
**For,"  said  the  web-footed  mother,  "the  very  sight  of  a  hen 
always  makes  me  feel  so  glad  that  I  can  swim !  I  want  to  get 
into  the  water  immediately  and  enjoy  the  use  of  my  powers." 

Unhappy  Mrs.  Cackle  returned  to  the  farmyard  more  worried 
than  when  she  had  started  out.  She  now  felt  almost  certain 
that  some  harm  had  happened  to  Peepsie.  At  the  farmyard 
gate,  however,  she  saw  the  farmer's  little  girl  coming  toward  her. 

Little  Bess  stooped  and  put  her  hands  to  the  ground,  and  out 
ran  the  lost  Peepsie — a  wee  bit  frightened  but  not  at  all  hurt. 
"  There's  your  baby,  Mrs.  Cackle,"  said  Bess  ;  "I  took  him  into 
the  house  to  make  a  little  visit,  but  mother  said  you  would  be 
lonely,  so  I  have  brought  him  back." 

After  that,  whenever  Peepsie  disappeared,  Mrs.  Cackle  used 
to  go  and  cluck  near  the  kitchen  door,  and  then  Bessie  would  let 
Peepsie  go  back  to  her ;  and  Mrs.  Cackle  used  to  say  to  herself : 
"  I  do  not  wonder  that  she  likes  my  baby,  for  when  Peepsie  was 
lost  and  I  saw  Mrs.  Field-mouse's  child  and  Mrs.  Robin's  and 
Mother  Duck's,  I  certainly  found  that  there  was  not  one  of  them 
like  mine!'* 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


336  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


Pe-wcc^s  Lesson^ 

In  a  large  farmyard,  in  one  of  the  whitest  coops,  Pe-wee  lived 
with  his  mother.  Pe-wee  was  a  soft,  downy  little  chicken ;  his 
feet  were  of  the  yellowest,  and  his  eyes  sparkled  so  that  they 
made  you  want  to  look  at  them  all  the  time,  they  were  so  bright ; 
and  then  he  had  such  a  cunning  way  of  winking,  and  of  keeping 
one  eye  shut  for  a  long  time,  while  he  looked  all  about  with  the 
Dther.  Pe-wee  had  a  good  mother  who  loved  her  little  chicken 
/ery  dearly  and  watched  closely  that  everything  was  for  his  com- 
fort. When  the  little  fellow  was  awakened  by  the  crowing  of 
the  king  of  the  farmyard,  he  would  take  a  peep  from  under  his 
mother's  wings  and  watch  the  great  sun  grow  smaller  the  higher 
flp  it  came  in  the  sky,  and  then  he  would  look  at  the  grass  so 
refreshed  after  its  night's  bath. 

**  Everything  is  so  lovely  in  this  world,"  thought  Pe-wee,  while 
eating  his  good  breakfast  of  moistened  meal;  *'is  there  any 
other  chicken  so  happy  as  I?  " 

One  day  some  new  neighbors — very  young  people  with  their 
mother — came  to  live  close  by ;  they  were  noisy,  but  so  good- 
natured  that  Pe-wee  longed  to  make  their  acquaintance  ;  he  was 
certain  that  he  should  like  them.  The  mothers  soon  were  fast 
friends ;  and  although  one  was  a  duck,  their  friendship,  as  well 
as  that  of  their  children,  progressed  famously.  They  would 
have  long  talks  and  many  pleasant  walks  together,  and  all  went 
well  until  one  warm  morning  they  came  to  a  pool  of  water ;  the 
little  ducks,  with  their  mother,  at  once  jumped  in,  and  were 
soon  floating  gracefully  on  the  top  of  the  water.  Pe-wee  wanted 
a  merry  time,  too ;  he  would  not  attempt  anything  like  swim- 
ming, for  he  had  never  seen  his  mother  swim,  but  he  ran  along 
to  the  water's  edge,  and,  putting  his  wee  feet  in,  enjoyed  the 
coolness.  But  the  ground  on  which  he  stood  sloped  very  gently, 
and  it  must  have  been  a  little  slippery,  for  Pe-wee  felt  himself 
sliding  very  slowly  but  surely  toward  the  deep  water.  Poor, 
frightened  little  Pe-wee  !  He  could  only  call  a  few  times  very 
feebly  *'Peep,  peep !  "  and  when  his  mother  turned  to  look,  she 
saw  her  baby  certainly  going  to  his  death.  Oh !  how  fast  she 
ran  to  the  water's  edge,  flapping  her  wings  and  crying  piteously. 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD.  337 

Mother  Duck,  seeing  the  trouble,  swam  quickly  tc  the  spot 
and  gave  Pe-wee  a  push  toward  the  bank  with  her  broad  beak, 
which  sent  him  up  on  the  dry  grass.  Pe-wee  followed  his  mother 
home,  walking  very  quietly  and  very  slowly ;  indeed,  he  could 
not  have  walked  fast,  for  he  was  water-soaked  and  stiff.  I  think 
the  old  hen  knew  this,  for  she  was  a  most  thoughtful  mother; 
and  I  think,  too,  she  was  sorry  for  her  child,  who  never  uttered 
a  peep  the  whole  way.  As  they  neared  home,  the  mother  turned 
and  said:  ** Never  forget,  my  child,  that  some  are  made  to  go 
on  the  watery  and  some  to  stay  on  dry  land!'' 

When  supper  was  finished,  our  little  friend  stood  apart,  think- 
ing and  winking.  The  feathered  people  were  all  going  to  bed ; 
first  one  hen  and  then  another,  with  a  loud  cluck,  cluck,  would 
fly  to  a  bar  of  her  own  choosing,  and  settle  herself  for  the  night. 
The  flowers  in  the  distance  seemed  tired,  too  ;  some  had  even 
closed  their  cups ;  and  the  summer  breeze  was  rocking  them 
gently  to  sleep;  the  buzzing  insects  were  gone,  and  the  sun  was 
fast  going.  Still  little  Pe-wee  stood  there,  his  face  toward  the 
sunset. 

*'  It  is  bedtime,"  said  his  mother ;  "  but  tell  me  first  what  my 
little  chick  is  thinking  of  ?  " 

Pe-wee  went  slowly  to  his  mother,  and  just  before  hiding  him- 
self under  her  sheltering  wing,  he  said:  ''I  was  thinking,  dear 
mother,  that  some  are  made  to  go  on  the  water,  and  some  to 
stay  on  dry  land." 

''Stories  for  the  Kindergarten  and  the  Home." 


The  Story  of  Speckle* 

Her  name  was  Speckle  because  her  white  feathers  were 
speckled  all  over  with  black.  She  had  just  as  many  eggs  in  her 
nest  as  you  have  ** merry  little  men"  on  your  hands,  and  her 
nest  was  in  a  wooden  box  in  the  barn.  The  box  was  filled  with 
hay,  so  it  was  soft  and  warm  for  the  eggs  to  lie  on.  There  was 
something  soft  and  warm  over  the  eggs,  too.  What  do  you  think 
that  was?  Why,  Speckle  herself!  There  she  sat  on  the  nest, 
having  stepped  in  very  carefully,  so  as  not  to  break  the  eggs. 


338  IN  THE  child's  "WORLD. 

All  day  she  stayed  there  ;  and  even  when  the  cows  and  horses 
came  into  the  barn,  and  the  other  hens  went  to  roost  for  the 
night,  Speckle  sat  as  still  as  ever,  caring  for  nothing  but  to  keep 
the  eggs  warm. 

The  next  morning,  before  the  farmer  came  to  the  barn,  Dobbin, 
the  big  horse,  poked  his  nose  out  of  his  stall  and  neighed  to 
Speckle. 

**I  never  saw  you  there  before,''  said  he.  **"W"hat  are  you 
doing?  " 

**I  am  keeping  my  eggs  warm,"  said  Speckle  cheerily. 

"Moo-o!  "  said  the  old  red  cow.  **  Are  you  not  in  a  hurry 
to  get  out  into  the  fields  where  the  new  grass  is  so  fresh  and 
green?  " 

'*0h,  no !  "  said  Speckle.  **I  would  not  leave  my  eggs.  I 
must  stay  here  and  keep  them  warm." 

By  and  by  the  farmer  came  into  the  barn. 

**Why,  is  that  little  Speckle  ?"  said  he,  walking  up  to  the 
corner  where  the  box  was.  Speckle  had  never  been  afraid  of  the 
farmer  before,  but  now  she  felt  so  anxious  about  her  precious 
eggs  that  she  made  a  queer  noise  in  her  throat  and  bristled  up 
her  feathers. 

*' There,  there,"  said  the  farmer  kindly,  stepping  away.  *'I 
won't  touch  your  eggs.  Don't  be  afraid  of  me ; "  and  he  went 
about  his  work  in  the  barn. 

The  cows  were  milked  and  turned  out  to  pasture ;  the  horse 
was  harnessed  to  the  cart  and  went  out  to  do  his  day's  work. 

The  barn  was  very  quiet.  Speckle  was  left  alone,  but  only  for 
a  short  time.  Fritz,  the  farm  dog,  strolled  in,  and  looked  at  her 
with  surprise. 

'*The  rest  of  the  hens  are  having  their  breakfast,"  said  he. 
**  Little  Phoebe  is  giving  them  a  regular  feast  of  corn.  Hurry, 
or  you  will  not  be  in  time  ! ' ' 

"I  cannot  go,"  said  Speckle,  though  she  was  really  very 
hungry.     **  I  must  sit  here  and  keep  my  eggs  warm." 

Fritz  was  so  astonished  that  he  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

**  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  go  sometime,"  said  Speckle,  '*  for  I 
must  not  starve  ;  but  I  can  get  along  for  a  while  yet." 

Fritz  put  out  his  paws  and  stretched  himself,  and  then  lay 


SPECKLE  AND  THE  SWALLOV. 


339 


340  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

down  on  the  sunny  barn  floor  to  think ;  but  it  was  so  comfortable 
that  he  fell  asleep  instead. 

Not  long  after  some  swallows  flew  into  the  barn,  and  one  of 
them,  swooping  down  with  a  sudden  dive,  came  so  close  to 
Speckle  that  her  swift  wings  fanned  the  patient  sitter.  Speckle 
was  startled,  but  only  for  an  instant,  for  the  swallow  folded  her 
wings  and  rested  on  tht  edge  of  the  box,  looking  at  Speckle  in  a 
friendly  way. 

•'  I  know  why  you  sit  there,"  she  said.  *'  Isn't  it  a  beautiful 
secret, — the  secret  of  the  eggs?  My  mate  and  I  have  almost 
finished  mending  our  nest — one  we  found  up  high  there — and  I 
shall  soon  have  some  eggs  to  keep  warm  just  as  you  have." 

Twittering  thus  the  swallow  seized  a  wisp  of  hay  and  darted 
away,  evidently  feeling  too  busy  to  make  a  longer  visit. 

Speckle  looked  after  her,  with  bright  eyes,  but  the  swallow  was 
soon  out  of  sight  in  a  dim  corner  far  above  Speckle's  head. 

The  hours  passed  and  it  was  night  again.  Speckle  had  only 
been  off  her  nest  once  to  get  a  little  food  and  water  when  she 
was  so  hungry  and  thirsty  that  she  could  not  wait  any  longer. 
Her  legs  felt  very  stiff  and  cramped,  and  it  seemed  strange  to 
her  to  be  sitting  there  on  a  nest  all  by  herself,  instead  of  being 
on  the  perch  in  the  henhouse  with  her  friends.  But  she  was 
contented  and  glad,  and  felt  that  there  was  nothing  in  the  world 
that  could  make  her  leave  her  precious  eggs. 

The  next  day  little  Phoebe  came  running  into  the  barn. 

**  Where  are  you.  Speckle?"  said  she,  peering  about  in  the 
corners.  **  Oh,  here  you  are,  you  dear  thing !  Father  said  last 
night  that  you  had  a  nest  here.  I've  brought  you  some  break- 
fast and  a  nice  little  pan  of  water." 

Speckle  really  did  not  know  how  to  say  *'  thank  you,"  but  she 
felt  like  it,  I  assure  you,  not  only  that  day  but  many  times  after, 
for  little  PhcEbe  came  every  day  and  brought  corn  or  meal  and 
filled  the  little  pan  with  fresh  water,  leaving  them  very  near  to 
the  wooden  box  so  that  Speckle  had  only  to  hop  out  to  get  them, 
and  could  be  back  again  on  her  eggs  in  a  trice,  instead  of  having 
to  look  all  about  for  something  to  eat. 

The  old  kind  of  life,  when  Speckle  had  run  about  the  farm  all 
day  and  roosted  on  the  perch  at  night,  seemed  long  past ;  and  it 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  ^ORLD.  341 

was  now  three  weeks  that  she  had  been  living  in  this  new  way — 
sitting  on  her  nsst  night  and  day  and  with  kind  little  Phoebe 
bringing  her  what  she  needed  to  eat  and  drink. 

And  now  at  the  end  of  the  three  long  weeks — twenty-one  days 
— a  most  wonderful  thing  happened. 

Speckle  heard  a  faint  little  sound  which  seemed  to  come  from 
the  eggs  beneath  her  breast.  It  was  certainly  like  the  sound  of 
an  egg  shell  being  broken.  Speckle  listened  and  waited.  Soon 
she  actually  felt  something  moving  beneath  her  and  then  she 
knew  instantly  what  had  happened.     Do  you  know? 

A  little  chicken  had  come  out  of  one  of  the  eggs.  It  had  been 
growing  inside  the  shell  all  the  twenty-one  days,  until,  being 
ready  for  life  in  the  world,  it  had  broken  its  shell  and  crept  out ! 
Before  long  there  were  several  others  fidgeting  about  in  the  nest, 
as  one  after  another  they  broke  open  the  pretty  white  houses  in 
which  they  had  lived  so  long ;  and  at  last  there  were  ten  cunning 
baby  chickens  covered  with  bright  yellow  down,  stepping  about 
on  their  wee  bits  of  legs  and  staring  at  the  new  world  with  round, 
black  eyes. 

Speckle  could  scarcely  contain  herself  for  joy.  All  these 
pretty  creatures  were  hers — her  very  own  !  She  began  to  cluck 
softly — a  little  song  she  had  never  sung  before  and  yet  knew 
perfectly  from  the  love  in  her  heart.  And  the  little  chickens  as 
they  listened,  nestling  under  their  mother's  soft  breast,  chirped 
in  answer;  and  though  all  they  said  was  **peep,  peep,"  it  made 
Speckle  happy  to  hear  them. 

After  she  had  cuddled  them  long  enough  and  they  were  ready 
to  take  a  walk.  Speckle  started  out  as  proud  and  happy  as  a  hen 
could  be.  Fortunately  the  bam  was  not  far  from  the  house,  or 
it  would  have  been  too  long  a  walk  for  the  chickens.  What  a 
walk  that  was !  Speckle  found  something  to  cluck  about  every 
step  of  the  way,  and  the  chickens  looked  in  wonder  at  all  the 
strange  new  things.  They  found  it  a  great  comfort  to  keep  call- 
ing to  their  mother  and  to  run  very  close  to  her  many  times. 

On  the  way  from  the  barn  to  the  house  they  met  the  farmer 
driving  old  Dobbin.  Speckle  chuckled  loudly  to  the  chickens  for 
fear  one  might  get  in  the  road  and  under  the  horse's  feet.  This 
attracted  the  farmer's  attention. 


342  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

**Ho,  ho!  Speckle!  That's  a  fine  brood,  upon  my  word," 
said  he,  counting  the  ten. 

Dobbin  said  nothing,  but  rolled  his  eyes  around  toward  Speckle 
with  an  expressive  glance  which  meant  as  much  as  the  farmer's 
kind  words. 

Speckle  led  her  yellow  train  on  toward  the  farmhouse.  The 
pasture  was  on  one  side  of  the  road  and  Speckle  chose  to  walk 
on  that  side,  hoping  that  some  of  the  cows  would  see  her.  Yes ! 
Lady  Jane,  the  oldest,  and  the  leader  of  .the  herd,  was  standing 
near  the  bars.  Again  Speckle  clucked  very  loudly  to  her 
chickens,  for  she  was  afraid  they  might  run  into  the  pasture. 
Lady  Jane  looked  up  from  the  tender  grass  she  was  crop- 
ping. She  made  no  attempt  at  speaking,  any  more  than 
Dobbin  had,  but  by  the  way  she  put  our  her  head  and  took 
several  deep  breaths,  and  switched  her  tail.  Speckle  knew  that 
Lady  Jane  noticed  her  chickens  with  due  astonishment  and 
admiration. 

But  Fritz,  the  dog,  was  more  surprised  than  either  the  horse  or 
the  cow,  for  he  had  only  been  on  the  farm  a  short  time,  and  these 
were  the  first  baby  chickens  he  had  ever  seen.  He  thought  it 
must  be  that  Speckle  had  found  a  whole  troop  of  canary  birds 
like  the  pretty  creature  which  lived  in  the  cage  and  which 
Phoebe  loved  so  much.  So  off  he  ran  ahead  of  Speckle,  barking 
loudly.  The  chickens  were  greatly  frightened  at  this  noisy 
monster,  and  ran  to  their  mother — in  front  of  her,  behind  her, 
and  under  her — in  their  panic ;  but  she  clucked  soothingly  and 
presently  succeeded  in  quieting  them.  So  when-  Phoebe  opened 
the  door  to  see  what  Fritz  was  barking  at.  Speckle  and  her 
brood  were  walking  quite  properly  across  the  dooryard,  and 
Fritz  stood  wagging  his  tail  and  looking  up  into  Phoebe's  face, 
as  if  to  say :  "  There  !     Are  you  not  glad  I  called  you?  " 

Phoebe  shouted  with  surprise  and  delight.  She  was  soon  close 
to  Speckle  and  was  so  quiet  and  gentle  that  Speckle  could  not  be 
afraid  of  her  very  long,  and  even  the  chickens  forgot  to  be  afraid 
when  Phoebe  brought  a  nice  pan  of  meal  for  them. 

While  they  were  eating  this,  the  farmer  came  up  carrying  a 
new  coop.     He  set  it  down  under  a  cherry  tree. 

**  O  father !  is  that  for  Speckle?  "  asked  Phoebe. 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  343 

''  Yes,  it  is  for  Speckle,"  said  the  farmer.  **She  would  trot 
those  chickens  all  over  the  farm  if  I  did  not  put  her  into  a  coop." 

So,  before  Speckle  knew  what  was  going  on,  she  found  herself 
looking  out  between  the  slats  of  the  coop.  She  called  anxiously 
to  her  chickens,  and  though  they  ran  about  wildly  for  a  little, 
they  soon  found  their  way  into  the  coop  and  under  her  wings. 
They  rested  there  a  few  minutes,  but  dear !  dear !  there  was  so 
much  to  see  outside  and  they  were  such  lively  little  creatures 
that  before  long  they  were  out  again.  Speckle  watched  them 
and  talked  to  them  all  the  time,  stretching  her  head  away  out 
between  the  slats  of  the  coop  and  calling  the  little  ones  back  if 
they  were  running  away. 

Suddenly  a  bird  passed  by,  flying  low,  and  Speckle  looked  up 
in  alarm  lest  it  might  be  something  to  hurt  her  chickens.  Again 
the  bird  passed,  and  this  time  Speckle  saw  that  it  was  her  friend 
the  barn  swallow,  the  one  who  had  spoken  to  her  when  she  was 
sitting  on  her  eggs. 

**Look,  look!  Look,  look!"  called  Speckle  in  great  joy, 
delighted  that  the  swallow  should  see  her  treasures ;  and  the 
swallow  twittered  as  joyously  in  return,  for  she,  too,  had  glad 
news  to  tell. 

"Happy,  happy,  happy!"  she  chirped.  "Long  I  sat  on  my 
nestful  of  eggs ;  now  it  is  a  nestful  of  birds.'* 

And  away  she  darted  to  the  barn,  whither  she  had  been  fly- 
ing,— as  full  of  rejoicing  over  her  baby  swallows  awaiting  her 
return  as  Speckle  was  over  her  yellow  darlings, 

EMDCLm  POULSSON. 


THE  BEE,  L 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


"  Live  bees  in  kindergaiten!  "  Yes;  all  the  difficulties — and  they  are  many 
— can  be,  have  been,  surmounted,  and  bees  have  been  kindergarten  guests 
for  a  day  or  more.  Some  lived  on  a  large  branch  of  blossoms  in  a  box  covered 
with  glass  on  one  side  and  netting  on  the  other,  and  some  in  a  glass  iar  with 
netting  over  the  top  and  with  only  a  flower  or  two,  or  perhaps  a  wet  lump  of 
sugar  for  solace. 


THE  TALK. 

When  "we  talked  of  the  farmer  we  spoke  of  many  creatures 
who  live  on  the  farm — some  with  four  feet  (children  name 
them) ,  some  with  two  feet.  Now  we  will  look  at  some  tiny  little 
creatures,  smaller  than  the  cows,  smaller  than  the  sheep,  smaller 
than  the  hen,  smaller  than  the  chickens,  smaller  than  the  birds, 
smaller  than  the  butterflies,  although,  like  the  birds  and  butter- 
flies, they  can  fly.  Can  you  think  of  any  living  things  so  small? 
(Lead  the  children  to  name  all  the  insects  they  can,  and  then 
produce  the  bees.) 

Bees  are  so  small  that  we  shall  need  to  use  our  eyes  well  to 
find  out  much  about  them.  Let  us  listen  now  to  what  each 
child  tells  us.      (Question  individual  children.) 

How  does  the  bee  move?  What  can  the  bee  do?  What  kind 
of  a  noise  does  the  bee  make?  How  many  legs  has  it?  How 
many  wings?  How  many  feelers?  What  is  its  body  covered 
with?  Very  many  soft,  fine  hairs  so  that  it  is  like  plush  or  velvet. 
What  colors  does  the  bee  wear?  Do  you  see  that  the  bee's  body 
shows  three  distinct  parts?  (head,  thorax,  abdomen — the  fad 
not  the  names  for  the  children) .  How  many  parts  were  there 
to  the  butterfly's  body? 

Now  some  one  with  very  sharp  eyes  may  tell  where  the  wings 
and  legs  grow.     Sharp  eyes  can  find  out  many  things.     Where 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  345 

did  the  butterfly's  wings  and  legs  grow?  The  wings  and  legs  of 
insects  always  grow  from  the  middle  part  of  the  body. 

Has  the  insect  a  backbone  ?  No  ;  its  body  is  made  in  a  differ- 
ent way.  "Who  will  be  ''  Sharp  Eyes  "  this  time  and  look  care- 
fully at  the  back  part  of  the  bee's  body?  What  did  you  see  at 
the  back  part  of  the  butterfly's  body?  These  rings  remind  us  of 
the  caterpillar  from  which  the  butterfly  grew.  The  bee  has  just 
as  wonderful  a  story  as  the  butterfly ;  for,  just  as  the  butterfly 
grows  from  a  caterpillar,  so  a  bee  grows  from  a  little  white  thing, 
like  a  caterpillar,  which  does  not  look  at  all  like  a  bee,  and  which 
has  no  wings,  no  feelers  and  not  even  any  legs.  It  does  not 
need  legs,  for  it  stays  in  one  place,  never  crawling  about  for  food 
as  the  caterpillar  does,  for  some  of  the  older  bees  feed  all  these 
white  babies  as  long  as  they  will  eat.  Then  they  cover  them 
over  with  wax  and  leave  them  to  change  into  perfect  bees. 

Do  you  remember  how  wet  and  crumpled  the  butterfly  was 
when  it  first  came  out  of  its  chrysalis?  And  how  it  had  to 
straighten  and  dry  its  wings  before  it  could  fly?  Even  this  the 
bee  does  not  do  for  itself,  for  some  of  the  older  bees  stroke  and  pet 
and  feed  it  until  it  is  strong  enough  to  fly  and  to  work. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

The  Fairy  Land  of  Science  (Chaps,  IX,  X),   -        -        -         Arabella  Bwkl'-y 
The  Origin  of  Species  (Vol.  I),        -        -        -        -        -        -        -      Darwin 

Knis,  Bees  and  Wasps,     ---------    Lubbock 

An  Idyll  of  the  Honey  Bee  ("  Pepacton  and  Other 

Sketches"), John  Burroughs 

Pastoral  Bees  ("  Locusts  and  Wild  Honey  "),  -        -        -  Joh.i  Burroughs 

Telling  the  Bees, Whittier 

Paradise  Lost  (Book  VII),       ------_.        Milton 

To  the  Humble  Bee,         -------..    Emerson 

The  Honey  Makers,  -------  Marg^.ret  W.  Morley 

The  Bee  People, Margaret  W.  Morley 

For  the  Children. 

A.  Little  Dark  Nursory  Underground,  1    ("  Litth  T^lks  in  Feathers 

Nurseries  for  Baby  Insects,  J  and  Fur  "^j     Olive  Thorn   Miller 

*li  is  the  May-time,"  said  the  Bcc,  (    Monroe's  Third  Reader'). 


346  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

STORffiS- 

The  Rhyme  of  the  Little  Idle  Boy. 

(From  the  French.') 

And  have  you  heard  about  the  boy— 

(A  very  little  boy  indeed) — 
Who  did  not  wish  to  work  at  all, 

Or  go  to  school  or  learn  to  read? 

Oh!  slowly,  slowly  did  he  walk, 
And  h-^avy  seemed  his  little  book, 

As  through  the  daisy  fields  he  w  >nt 
And  past  th:  merry,  clattering  brook. 

Above  his  head  there  flew  a  bee. 
"  O  Bee,"  the  boy  said,  "  won't  you  stay 

And  show  me  how  you  dy  so  high. 
And  talk  with  me,  and  laugh  and  play?  " 

Then,  scarcely  pausing,  said  the  bee: 
"  Dear  chxld,  no  time  have  I  to  waste. 
The  North  Wind  long  has  kept  me  back, 
And  now  to  work  I  gladly  haste. 

"  Already  I  am  laden,  see! 

With  honey  for  the  honeycomb ; 
The  lilac  cups  more  nectar  hold, — - 
'Twixt  hive  and  flower  I  ever  roam.'* 

Away  then  flew  the  downy  bee. 
That  joyous  day  of  early  spring. 

A  swallow  passed  the  little  boy. 

And  brushed  his  cheek  with  waving  wing. 

She  floated  in  the  sunny  air 

And  called  aloud  in  happy  song: 
"Rejoice!  Rejoice!     The  spring  is  near!  " 
So  rang  her  message,  clear  and  strong. 

The  child  looked  up  with  brightening  face: 
"  O  Swallow!     I  remember  you! 
You  are  the  bird  who  carries  joy; 
O  Swallow,  make  me  happy,  too. 

"  Do  come  and  play  with  me  awhile!  " 

"  Fain  would  I,"  said  the  swallow  then, 
"  For  I  have  flown  so  fast  and  far; — 
But  farther  must  I  fly  again, 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  347 


"  For  many  wait  with  eager  heart 
To  hear  the  message  that  I  bring; 
And  I  must  bear  it  faithfully 

And  herald  now  the  dawn  of  spring. 

"  My  happy  news  I  sing  abroad, 

Then — oh,  what  joyous  work  to  do !  — 
My  pretty  nest,  my  home,  to  Duild; 
Indeed,  I  cannot  play  with  you." 

The  swift-winged  swallow  flew  afar, 

The  child  lagged  on  with  footsteps  slowj 

And — yes!  I  have  to  own — he  cried. 
But  then  he  was  so  small,  you  know." 

A  dog  who  heard  the  steps  approach 
Came  stalking  from  his  kennel  door; 

But  pitying  the  crying  child. 

All  growls  and  barking  he  forebore. 

"  Good  doggie,"  said  the  lonely  child, 
"  I  am  so  very  sad  to-day; 
The  bees  and  birds  all  have  to  work — 
They  will  not  come  with  me  to  play. 

"  I  do  not  like  to  work  at  all, 

I  do  not  care  to  learn  to  read; 
O  doggie  dear!     If  I  were  you, 
I  then  could  always  play  indeed!  '* 

Old  Stentor  looked  upon  the  child 

Whose  dimpled  fingers  stroked  his  hair. 
"  What,  little  one?     Did  you  not  know 
That  even  dogs  in  work  must  share.' 

"  Not  only  all  the  livelong  day 

I  watch  my  master's  home  and  farm, 
But  while  he  sleeps  without  a  fear. 
My  work  it  is  to  guard  from  harm. 

"  And  more,  my  little  one;  for  see 
Where  yonder  at  the  heavy  plow 
The  faithful  horse  our  master  serves;  — 
From  year  to  year  he  works  as  now. 

"  The  wool  produced  by  yonder  sheep. 
Your  mother,  singing,  spins  at  home. 
When  all  are  cheerily  at  work 
Will  you,  a  little  idler,  roam? 


348  IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 

"  The  busy  bee  gives  honey  sweet. 
The  swallow  carries  joy  alway : 
By  some  one's  work  all  pleasure  comes  J 
Will  you  do  nothing,  then,  but  play? 

"  Oh  no!     Go,  little  one,  to  school; 
We  dogs  can  never  learn  to  read, 
But  you  will  be  a  man  some  day! 
To  be  a  man  is  grand  indeed!  " 

The  child  had  listened  eagerly 

To  wise  old  Stentor  as  he  spoke; 
The  words,  "  You'll  be  a  man  some  dayl  " 

A  brave  and  manly  spirit  woke. 

He  clasped  old  Stentor's  shaggy  neck 

And  kissed  the  honest  doggie's  face; 
And,  with  the  book  held  proudly  now, 

Ran  off  to  school  at  happy  pace. 

All  eagerness  some  work  to  do. 

Light  hearted  o'er  the  road  he  sped; 
And  reached  the  school.   *  *   *  When  autumn  came 

You  cannot  think  how  well  he  read! 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


Edith  and  the  Bees. 

One  beautiful  morning  last  June,  a  sweet  little  girl  thought 
she  would  go  out  in  the  garden  and  pick  some  flowers  for  one  of 
her  playmates,  who  was  sick  and  obliged  to  stay  shut  up  in  the 
house  this  fragrant  summer  morning.  **  Tommy  shall  have  the 
most  beautiful  flowers  in  the  garden,"  thought  Edith,  as  she 
took  her  little  basket  and  pruning  scissors,  and  ran  out  into  the 
garden.  She  looked  like  a  lovely  fairy  or  a  sunbeam,  flitting 
about  the  rosebushes.  I  think  she  was  the  most  exquisite  rose 
in  all  the  garden  herself.  Her  heart  was  full  of  thoughts  of 
Tommy,  while  she  worked  away  busily.  **  I  wish  I  knew  some- 
thing that  would  please  Tommy  more  than  anything  else  !  "  she 
said  to  herself.  **I  would  love  to  make  him  happy  !  "  and  she 
sat  down  on  the  edge  of  a  beautiful  fountain  to  think. 

While  she  sat  there  thinking,  two  dear  little  birds  began  to 
take  their  bath  in  the  lovely,  sparkling  water  that  rippled  and 
danced  in  the  sunshine.     They  would  plunge  into  the  water  and 


Worker  bee.  Queer.-bee.  Drone  or  male  bee. 


BEES  GOING  MARKETING, 


350  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

come  out  dripping,  perch  on  the  side  of  the  fountain  for  a 
moment,  and  plunge  in  again.  Then  they  would  shake  the 
bright  drops  from  their  feathers  and  fly  away  singing  sweeter 
than  ever.  Edith  thought  the  little  birds  enjoyed  their  bath  as 
much  as  her  baby  brother  did  his. 

When  they  had  flown  away  to  a  distant  tree,  Edith  noticed  a 
beautiful  pink  rosebud,  more  beautiful  than  any  she  had  yet 
seen.  **0h,  how  lovely  you  are  ! ''  she  cried;  and,  running  to 
the  bush  where  it  was,  she  bent  down  the  branch,  that  she 
might  examine  it  more  closely,  when  out  of  the  heart  of  the 
rose  came  a  small  insect,  and  stung  her  pretty  cheek.  The 
little  girl  began  to  weep  loudly,  and  ran  to  her  father,  who  was 
working  in  another  part  of  the  yard.  "  Why,  my  little  girl !  " 
said  he,  *'abee  has  stung  you.'*  He  drew  out  the  sting,  and 
bathed  her  swollen  cheek  in  cool  water,  at  the  same  time  telling 
her  many  interesting  things  about  the  wonderful  little  bees. 

**Do  not  cry  any  more,  my  child,"  said  her  father,  **?,nd  I 
will  take  you  to  see  a  kind  gentleman  who  keeos  many  hives 
of  bees." 

"Oh,  thank  you!"  cried  Edith,  brushing  away  the  tears. 
"  I  will  run  and  get  ready  now." 

The  beemaster,  as  everybody  called  the  old  man  who  kept 
the  bees,  was  very  glad  to  show  his  little  pets,  and  to  tell  Edith 
all  he  knew  about  them.  He  led  her  to  a  hive,  made  wholly  of 
glass,  so  that  she  might  watch  the  bees  at  their  work. 

'*  There  are  three  kinds  of  bees  in  every  hive,"  said  the  gentle- 
man. **  That  large  bee  in  the  middle  is  the  queen  bee.  She  is 
the  most  important  bee  in  the  hive.  She  has  a  sting,  but  seldom 
makes  use  of  it.  Those  busy  little  bees  are  the  worker  bees.  It 
was  probably  a  worker  that  s'tung  you  this  morning,  my  little 
girl,"  said  the  beemaster. 

Edith  thought  she  did  not  like  the  worker  bee  as  well  as  the 
others ;  but  when  she  heard  what  indu;5trious  little  workers  they 
are,  and  how  they  take  all  the  care  of  the  young  bees,  build  the 
cells  of  wax.  and  bring  in  the  honey,  she  felt  much  more  affection 
for  them. 

**What  do  the  bees  do  in  winter,  when  there  are  no  flowers 
from  which  to  gather -honey?  "  inquired  Edith. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  351 

**They  sleep  during  the  long,  cold  winter  days,  and  awaken 
when  the  warm  spring  returns,"  replied  her  kind  instructor. 

*'Now,"  said  Edith's  father,  '*we  had  better  go,  or  you  will 
not  get  to  see  Tommy  to-day." 

Then  the  little  girl  thanked  her  new  friend  for  telling  her  so 
much  about  his  interesting  pets,  and  promised  to  come  and  see 
him  as  often  as  she  could. 

"O  father!"  cried  Edith,  as  they  walked  homeward,  **I  am 
almost  glad  that  the  naughty  little  bee  stung  me  this  morning, 
for  now  I  shall  have  something  amusing  to  tell  Tommy." 

Helen  Keller. 


Note.  This  story  was  more  complete  in  its  details  of  bee  life,  but  a  few 
paragraphs  have  been  omitted  as  being  an  unnecessary  repetition  of  what  has 
already  been  given  in  the  talk 

E.  P. 


THE  BEE,  IL 


To  THE  Teacher: — 

Many  objects  besides  the  bee  itself  will  be  useful  for  illustrating  this  talk,— - 
flowers  which  show  the  pollen,  a  lump  of  wax,  a  wax  candle,  a  wax  doll,  and, 
best  of  all,  a  little  feast  of  honey — honey  in  the  comb,  by  all  means. 


THE    TALK. 


Where  do  bees  live  ?  In  beehives.  Yes, 
and  there  are  wild  bees  which  live  in  the 
woods,  in  hollow  trees ;  but  when  farmers 
and  other  people  keep  bees  they  provide 
beehives — large  wooden  boxes — for  them 
to  live  in.  (Show  picture  of  beehive,  or 
have  a  drawing  on  the 
blackboard.)  A.  great 
many  bees  live  together 
in  one  hive  ;  as  many 
bees,  in  fact,  as  there 
are  people  in  a  whole 
city, — from  20,000  to  60,000.  One  bee  in  each  hive  is  different 
from  the  others  and  is  called  the  queen  bee.  She  lays  all  the 
eggs,  and  you  should  see  how  carefully  the  other  bees  watch  and 
tend  her !  The  queen  cannot  even  feed  herself,  but  would  starve 
to  death  with  honey  right  beside  her  if  there  were  no  bees  to  feed 
her !  Some  of  the  bees  are  called  drones,  and  others  workers. 
When  the  queen  flies  out  of  the  hive  the  drones  go  with  her,  and 
when  she  is  at  home  the  working  bees  attend  to  her. 

What  kind  of  work  do  you  think  such  little  things  as  bees  can 
do?  Yes,  they  can  gather  honey,  but  they  can  do  many  other 
things.     They  take  care   of   the  queen  and   the   thousands   of 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  353 

babies,  and  they  make  bee-bread  to  feed  to  them ;  they  make 
thousands  of  wax  cells  in  which  they  store  their  honey  ;  they  keep 
the  hive  clean,  and,  if  it  gets  too  warm  inside,  some  of  them 
stand  at  the  doorway  and  fan  fresh  air  into  the  hive  with  their 
wings  !  They  drive  away  strange  bees  or  wasps  or  snails  or  any 
other  creatures  which  try  to  get  into  their  hive.  Do  you  wonder 
how  they  can  tell  which  are  the  strange  bees  that  do  not  belong 
to  their  hive  ?  Some  of  the  wise  men  think  it  is  by  touching 
each  other's  feelers.  Whenever  two  bees  meet  they  always  touch 
each  other's  feelers.  Perhaps  that  is  the  same  for  them  that 
talking  is  for  us. 

Do  you  know  what  they  have  to  protect  themselves  with  when 
troubled?  A  sharp  little  thing  called  a  sting.  It  hurts  very 
much  to  be  stung,  but  a  bee  will  not  sting  any  one  who  does  not 
trouble  or  frighten  it  in  some  way. 

Did  you  ever  taste  honey?  Bees  are  such  hard  workers  that 
they  make  a  great  deal  of  honey,  and  so  we  often  have  some. 
When  we  take  honey  from  the  hive,  enough  must  be  left  for  the 
bees  through  the  winter,  or  else  we  must  give  them  syrup  to  live 
upon  until  the  spring  flowers  come.  After  the  bee  has  eaten  all 
the  honey  it  wishes  from  the  flowers,  it  gathers  more  to  take 
home  to  the  hive.  The  honey  for  the  hive  is  carried  in  a  little  bag 
which  is  inside  the  bee's  body,  and  which  the  bee  can  empty  into 
one  of  the  wax  cells.  It  takes  a  great  many  journeys  from  hive  to 
flower  and  from  flower  to  hive  before  a  bee  can  fill  even  one  cell. 

How  does  the  bee  get  honey  (or  rather  the  nectar  which  it 
makes  into  honey)  from  the  flowers?  With  its  long  tongue, 
which  is  something  like  the  butterfly's  tongue.  Bees  get  some- 
thing else  from  the  flowers  besides  honey — the  yellow  powder 
called  pollen.  You  have  seen  it  on  pussy  willows  and  lilies.  In 
the  spring,  bees  are  very  anxious  to  get  the  fresh  pollen.  Going 
into  a  flower  for  honey,  the  bee  gets  covered  with  the  yellow 
powder,  but  soon  brushes  it  off  with  its  feet  and  packs  it  away 
in  little  baskets  to  carry  it  home.  You  would  not  have  thought 
that  the  bee  always  carried  two  baskets,  would  you  ?  But  there 
they  are  on  its  hind  legs,  and  you  can  see  them  very  plainly  when 
they  are  full  of  the  yellow  pollen.  Sometimes  the  bees  fill  their 
baskets  so  full  that  they  can  scarcely  fly  with  their  heavy  loa(J 


354  IN  THE  child's  world. 

In  the  hive  the  pollen  is  mixed  with  honey,  forming  what  is 
called  **  bee-bread,"  and  fed  to  the  baby  bees. 

You  remember  that  the  bee  had  a  tiny  bag  in  which  to  carry 
honey,  as  well  as  two  baskets  for  carrying  pollen.  Besides  the 
bags  for  honey  and  baskets  for  pollen,  the  bee  has  eight  pockets 
on  the  under  side  of  its  body,  out  of  which  it  gets  the  wax  for 
building  its  cells.  Just  think !  A  bag  for  honey,  baskets  for 
pollen,  and  pockets  for  wax. 

The  cells  which  the  bee  builds  are  pure  white  and  of  very 
pretty  shape — six-sided.  The  bees  never  make  a  mistake.  They 
do  not  make  some  cells  square  and  some  round  and  some  with 
five  sides ;  but  always  make  their  cells  six-sided.  All  the  cells 
which  are  built  together  make  a  honeycomb.  What  tools  do 
the  bees  have?  Only  their  jaws  (mandibles)  and  feet.  For  what 
are  the  cells  used?  For  storing  honey  and  for  the  babies  to  live 
in.  When  a  cell  is  full  of  honey  the  bee  covers  it  over  with 
wax.  When  we  have  honey  to  eat,  it  is  sometimes  in  the  comb 
and  sometimes  strained ;  that  is,  all  the  wax  is  taken  out  of  it. 

Do  we  use  wax  for  anything?  Ask  your  mamma  if  she  has  a 
piece  in  her  workoasket,  and  what  she  does  with  it.  Do  you 
not  remember  that  the  cobbler  uses  it,  too?  Candles  are  made  of 
wax  sometimes — little  ones  for  Christmas  trees  and  big  candles, 
too.  And  have  any  of  these  little  girls  wax  dolls?  Their 
pretty  wax  heads  were  also  made  of  the  bees'  wax. 

Try  to  remember  the  busy  little  bees  the  next  time  you  play 
with  your  wax  dolls,  and  whenever  you  eat  honey. 


HOMES  FOR  THE  BEES. 


355 


3S6  IN  THE  child's  world. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Half -hours  with  Insects, Packard 

Nouvelles  Observations  sur  les  AbeiUes, Hube) 

Treatise  on  the  Honey  Bee, Langstroth 

Rhoecus, Lowell 

The  Bee,  -        -        -,-        -        -        -        -        -  Emily  Dickinson 

The  Bee, Vaughn 

For  the  Children* 

Buz,         _..->-.----     Maurice  Noel 

The  Bees'  Pockets  ( "  Kindergarten  Stories  and  Morning 

Talks "),  -        -        -        -    * S.E.  Wiltse 


STORffiS. 
A  Narrow  Escape. 

The  time  came  when  Buz  and  Hum,  two  young  bees,  were 
allowed  to  try  their  wings. 

**  Follow  me,"  said  a  friendly  older  bee  ;  **  I  can  spare  time  to 
fly  a  little  way ;  and  when  I  stop,  you  stop,  too." 

*' All  right,"  cried  Buz,  trembling  with  excitement. 

Hum  said  nothing,  but  her  wings  began  to  move,  almost  in 
spite  of  herself. 

Away  went  the  bee,  as  straight  as  a  line  from  the  mouth  of  the 
hive,  and  away  flew  Buz  and  Hum  after  her ;  but  at  first  starting 
they  both  found  it  a  little  difficult  to  keep  quite  straight,  and 
Buz  knocked  against  the  board  to  begin  with,  and  nearly  stopped 
herself,  as  she  had  not  learned  how  to  rise. 

The  older  bee  did  not  go  far,  and  lit  on  the  branch  of  a  peach 
tree  which  was  growing  against  a  wall  hard  by.  Buz  came  after 
her  in  a  great  hurry,  but  missed  the  branch  and  gave  herself  a 
bang  against  the  wall.  Hum  saw  this,  and  managed  to  stop  her- 
self in  time  ;  but  she  did  not  judge  her  distance  very  well  either, 
and  got  on  the  peach  tree  in  a  scrambling  sort  of  way. 

**  Very  good,"  said  their  friend,  as  they  all  three  stood  together : 


IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  357 

**you  will  soon  be  able  to  take  care  of  yourselves  now;  but  jusi 
let  me  see  you  back  to  the  hive." 

So  off  they  flew  again,  and  alighted  on  the  board  in  a  very 
creditable  manner. 

**  Now,"  said  the  bee,  **  I  shall  leave  you ;  but  before  I  go  let 
me  advise  you,  as  a  friend,  not  to  quit  the  garden  to-day ;  there 
are  plenty  of  flowers,  and  plenty  of  opportunities  for  you  to  meet 
with  *  Experience,'  without  flying  over  any  of  the  four  walls." 

**  Who  is  Experience?  "  asked  Buz  and  Hum  together 

**  Oh  !  somebody  to  whom  you  are  going  to  be  introduced,  who 
will  teach  you  more  in  a  day  than  you  could  learn  from  me  in  a 
week.     Good-bye."     So  saying,  she  disappeared  into  the  hive. 

**  Isn't  it  too  delightful?  "  exclaimed  Buz  to  Sum.  ''  Flying  ! 
why  it's  even  more  fun  than  I  thought !  " 

**It  is,"  said  Hum;  *'but  I  should  like  to  get  some  honey  at 
once." 

*'  Of  course,"  replied  Buz,  **  only  I  should  like  to  fly  a  good 
way  to  get  it." 

"  I  want  to  fill  a  cell  quickly,"  said  Hum. 

"Oh  yes,  to  be  sure  !  What  a  delightful  thing  it  will  be  to  put 
one's  proboscis  down  into  every  flower  and  see  what's  there  !  Do 
you  know,"  added  Buz,  putting  out  her  proboscis,  **I  feel  as  if 
I  could  suck  honey  tremendously  ;  don't  you?  " 

**Yes,  yes,"  cried  Hum,  *'I  long  to  be  at  it;  let's  be  off  at 
once." 

So  away  they  went  and  lit  on  a  bed  of  flowers. 

Hum  spent  the  day  between  the  hive  and  that  bed,  and  was ' 
quite,  quite  happy ;  but  Buz,  though  she,  too,  liked  collecting  the 
honey,  wanted  to  have  more  excitement  in  getting  it ;  and  every 
now  and  then,  as  she  passed  to  and  from  the  hive,  a  lovely  field 
of  clover,  not  far  off,  sent  forth  such  a  delicious  smell,  as  the 
breeze  swept  over  it,  that  she  was  strongly  tempted  to  disregard 
the  advice  she  had  been  given,  and  to  hurry  off  to  it. 

At  last  she  could  stand  it  no  longer ;  and,  rising  high  into  the 

air,  she  sailed  over  the  wall  and  went  out  into  the  world  beyond. 

And  so  she  reached  the  field  of  clover,  and,  flying  quite  low 

over  the  flowers,  was  astonished  to  see  how  many  bees  were  busy 

among  them — bumblebees  without  end,  and  plenty  of  honey- 


358  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

bees,  too  ;  in  fact,  the  air  was  filled  with  the  pleasant  murmur  that 
they  made. 

'*  To  be  sure,"  said  Buz  to  herself,  **  this  is  the  place  for  me  ! 
Poor,  dear  old  Hum !  I  hope  she  is  enjoying  herself  as  much  as 
I  am.  I  don't  mean  to  be  idle  either,  so  here  goes  for  some 
honey." 

Buz  was  very  diligent  indeed  and  soon  collected  as  much  honey 
as  she  could  carry.  But  by  the  time  she  had  done  this  she  found 
herself  close  to  the  farther  end  of  the  clover  field,  and  while 
resting  for  a  moment,  before  starting  to  carry  her  load  to  the 
hive,  she  noticed  a  little  pond  in  the  corner.  Feeling  thirsty 
after  her  hard  work,  she  flew  off  to  take  a  few  sips ;  but  just 
as  she  reached  the  pond  and  was  in  the  act  of  descending,  a 
light  gust  of  wind  caught  her  and  turned  her  half  over,  and 
before  she  could  recover  herself  she  was  plunged  far  out  mto 
the  water ! 

Poor  Buz !  She  was  a  brave  little  bee,  but  this  was  a  terrible 
accident ;  and  after  a  few  wild  struggles  she  almost  gave  herself 
up.  The  water  was  so  cold,  and  she  felt  herself  so  helpless  in  it ; 
and  then  the  accident  had  happened  so  suddenly,  and  taken  her 
so  utterly  by  surprise,  that  it  is  no  wonder  she  lost  courage.  Only 
for  a  moment  though ;  just  as  she  was  giving  up  in  despair  the 
hard  and  seemingly  useless  work  of  paddling  and  struggling  with 
all  her  poor  little  legs  at  once,  she  saw  that  a  bit  of  stick  was 
floating  near  her,  and  with  renewed  energy  she  attempted  to  get 
to  it.  Alas  !  it  was  all  she  could  do  to  keep  her  head  above  water ; 
as  for  moving  along  through  it,  that  seemed  impossible,  and  she 
was  tempted  to  give  up  once  more.  It  was  very  hard  though; 
there  was  the  stick,  not  more  than  a  foot  away  from  her ;  if  she 
could  only  reach  it !  At  any  rate  she  was  determined  it  should 
not  be  her  fault  if  she  was  unsuccessful ;  so  she  battled  away 
harder  than  ever,  though  her  strength  began  to  fail  and  she  was 
becoming  numbed  with  the  cold.  Just  as  she  made  this  last  effort 
another  gust  of  wind  swept  over  the  pond,  and  Buz  saw  that  the 
stick  began  to  move  through  the  water,  and  to  come  nearer  and 
nearer  to  her.  The  fact  was  that  a  small  twig  sticking  up  from 
it  acted  as  a  sail,  though  Buz  did  not  know  this.  And  now  the 
stick  was  quite  close,  almost  within  reach ;  in  another  moment 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  359 

she  would  be  on  it.  Ah  !  but  a  moment  seems  a  long  time  when 
one  is  at  the  last  gasp,  as  poor  Buz  was. 

Would  she  be  drowned  after  all?  No  !  Just  as  she  was  sink- 
ing she  touched  the  stick  with  one  little  claw,  and  held  on  as  only- 
drowning  people  can  ;  and  then  she  got  another  claw  safely  lodged, 
and  was  able  to  rest  for  a  moment.  Oh  !  the  relief  of  that,  after 
such  a  long  and  ceaseless  struggle  ! 

But  even  then  it  was  very  hard  to  get  up  on  the  stick,  very- 
hard  indeed.  However,  Buz  managed  it  at  last,  and  dragged 
herself  quite  out  of  the  cold  water. 

By  this  time  the  breeze  was  blowing  steadily  over  the  pond, 
and  the  stick  would  soon  reach  the  bank  ;  but  Buz  felt  very  miser- 
able and  cold,  and  her  wings  clung  tightly  to  her,  and  she  looked 
dreadfully  forlorn. 

The  pond,  too,  was  overshadowed  by  trees ;  so  there  were  no 
sunbeams  to  warm  her.  **  Ah  !  "  thought  she,  '*  if  I  can  manage 
to  drag  myself  up  into  the  sunshine  and  rest  and  be  well  warmed, 
I  shall  soon  be  better." 

Well !  the  bank  was  safely  reached  at  last ;  but  Buz,  all  through 
her  life,  never  forgot  what  a  business  it  was  climbing  up  the  side. 
The  long  grasses  yielded  to  hei"  weight,  and  bent  almost  straight 
down,  as  if  on  purpose  to  make  it  as  up-hill  work  for  her  as  pos- 
sible. And  even  when  she  reached  the  top  it  took  her  a  weary- 
while  to  get  across  the  patch  of  dark  shadow  and  out  into  the 
glad  sunlight  beyond ;  but  she  managed  to  arrive  there  at  last, 
and  crawling  on  the  top  of  a  stone  which  had  been  well  warmed 
by  the  sun's  rays,  she  rested  for  a  long  time. 

At  last  she  recovered  sufficiently  to  make  her  way,  by  a  succes- 
sion of  short  flights,  back  to  the  hive.  After  the  first  of  these 
flights  she  felt  so  dreadfully  weak  that  she  almost  doubted  being 
able  to  accomplish  the  journey,  and  began  to  despond. 

"  If  I  ever  do  get  home,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  will  tell  Hum 
all  about  it,  and  how  right  she  was  to  take  advice." 

Now  whether  it  was  the  exercise  that  did  her  good,  or  that 
the  sun's  rays  became  hotter  that  afternoon,  cannot  be  known, 
but  this  is  certain,  that  Buz  felt  better  after  every  flight.  When 
she  reached  the  end  of  the  clover  fleld,  she  sipped  a  little  honey, 
cleaned  herself  with  her  feet,  stretched  her  wings,  and,  with  the 


360  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

sun  glistening  brightly  on  her,  looked  quite  fine  again.  Her  last 
flight  brought  her  to  the  top  of  the  kitchen-garden  wall.  After 
resting  here,  she  opened  her  wings  and  flew  gaily  to  the  hive, 
which  she  entered  just  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

Maurice  Noel. 

Slightly  altered  from  ''Buz,''  Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  New  York, 


Solomon  and  the  Bees* 


When  Solomon  was  reigning  in  his  glory, 
Unto  his  throne  the  Queen  of  Sheba  came — 

(So  in  the  Talmud  you  may  read  the  story) — 
Drawn  by  the  magic  o£  the  monarch's  fame. 

To  see  the  splendors  of  his  couri:,  and  hxist^ 

Seme  fitting  tribute  to  the  mighty  King. 

Nor  this  alone :  much  had  her  Highness  heard 
What  flowers  of  learning  graced  the  royal  speech; 

What  gems  of  wisdom  dropped  with  every  word ; 
What  wholesome  lessons  he  was  wont  to  teach 

In  pleasing  proverbs ;   and  she  wished,  in  sooth, 

To  know  if  Rumor  spoke  the  simple  truth. 

Besides,  the  Queen  had  heard  (which  piqued  her  most) 
How  through  the  deepest  riddles  he  could  spy; 

How  all  the  curious  arts  that  women  boast 
Were  quite  transparent  to  his  piercing  eye ; 

And  so  the  Queen  had  come — a  royal  guest — 
To  put  the  sage's  cunning  to  the  test. 

And  straight  she  held  before  the  monarch's  view, 
In  either  hand,  a  radiant  wreath  of  flowers ; 

The  one,  bedecked  with  every  charming  hue. 
Was  newly  culled  from  Nature's  choicest  bowers; 

The  other,  no  less  fair  in  every  part, 

Was  the  rare  product  of  divinest  Art. 

"  Which  is  the  true,  and  which  the  false.?  "  she  said. 
Great  Solomon  was  silent.     All  amazed. 
Each  wondering  courtier  shook  his  puzzled  head; 
While  at  the  garlands  long  the  monarch  gazed, 
As  one  who  sees  a  miracle,  and  fain, 
For  very  rapture,  ne'er  would  speak  again. 

'"  Which  is  the  true.?  "  once  more  the  woman  asked, 
Pleased  at  the  fond  amazement  of  the  King; 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  361 

**  So  wise  a  head  should  not  be  hardly  tasked, 

Most  learned  Liege,  with  such  a  trivial  thing!  " 
But  still  the  sage  was  silent;  it  was  plain 
A  deepening  doubt  perplexed  the  royal  brain. 

While  thus  he  pondered,  presently  he  sees. 

Hard  by  the  casement — so  the  story  goes — 
A  little  band  of  busy,  bustling  bees. 

Hunting  for  honey  in  a  withered  rose. 
The  monarch  smiled  and  raised  his  royal  head; 
"  Open  the  window!  " — that  was  all  he  said. 

The  window  opened  at  the  King's  command; 

Within  the  rooms  the  eager  insects  flew. 
And  sought  the  flowers  in  Sheba's  dexter  hand! 

And  so  the  king  and  all  the  courtiers  knew 
That  wreath  was  Nature's;   and  the  baffled  Queen 
Returned  to  tell  the  wonders  she  had  seen. 

My  story  teaches  (every  tale  should  bear 
A  fitting  moral)  that  the  wise  may  find 
In  trifles  light  as  atoms  of  the  air 

Some  useful  lesson  to  enrich  the  mind — 
Some  truth  designed  to  profit  or  to  please — 
As  Israel's  King  learned  wisdom  from  the  bees. 

John  G.  Saxe. 
Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


Mrs.  Flyaway. 

(i4  Story  of  Ants.) 

Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  in  a  big,  brown  house  a  very 
dainty  little  lady.  They  called  her  Mrs.  Flyaway  because  she 
never  wanted  to  stay  at  home. 

The  little  person  looked  as  if  she  had  been  polished,  for  she 
was  very  black  and  very  shiny.  She  had  two  tiny,  gauzy  wings 
and  six  legs,  so  that  she  could  walk  quite  fast  for  her  size.  She 
was  very  small,  indeed — not  half  an  inch  long. 

In  fact,  she  was  an  ant  and  lived  in  an  ant-hill. 

A  great  many  other  ants  lived  in  this  same  house — almost  as 
many  ants  as  there  are  leaves  on  a  tree — so  many  that  you  could 
not  count  them. 

The  brown  house  stood  in  the  middle  of  a  beautiful  green  field 


362  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

and  above  it  was  an  elm  tree  through  which  the  wind  sang  all 
day  and  all  night,  so  you  see  it  was  a  very  pleasant  place  to 
live  in. 

Perhaps  the  brown  house  wouldn't  have  seemed  big  to  a  boy  or 
girl,  but  it  was  grand  indeed  for  the  little  ants,  and  they  were 
very  proud  of  it,  because  they  had  built  it  all  themselves.  It 
doesn't  seem  possible  that  little  ants  could  build  a  house,  does  it? 
But  I  will  tell  you  how  they  did  it. 

Of  course  they  had  to  begin  with  something  very  small,  so 
they  chose  a  blade  of  grass.  Think  of  beginning  to  build  a  house 
with  a  blade  of  grass  ! 

This  blade  of  grass  was  standing  very  straight  and  stiff  under 
the  elm  tree,  and  one  little  ant  who  was  a  mason  said,  **I  will 
make  some  mortar,  and  then  with  it  I  will  cover  the  blade  of 
grass  to  make  a  stout  pillar.  This  will  be  the  beginning  of  our 
house."  He  found  some  soft  earth  and  sticky  clay  with  which 
he  mixed  a  little  water  and  tiniest  bits  of  grass  and  wood. 
He  kneaded  this  with  his  feet  until  it  was  a  thick  plaster,  which 
he  stuck  on  the  blade  of  grass.  Of  course  it  took  him  a  long 
time  to  cover  the  whole  grass  blade,  but  he  worked  hard  and  was 
very  patient. 

When  the  other  ant  masons  saw  what  he  was  doing,  they  all 
went  to  work  with  a  will  and  did  just  the  same  to  other  blades 
of  grass. 

The  big  Sun  looked  down  and  smiled  on  them  when  he  saw 
how  hard  they  worked.  **I  will  help  them,"  he  said;  and 
smiling  more  brightly  than  ever  he  baked  their  pillars  hard 
and  dry. 

When  the  pillars  were  done  the  ants  built  arches  across 
them,  back  and  front,  right  and  left,  over  and  over,  until  a 
roof  was  stretched  across.  The  good-natured  Sun  smiled  down 
once  more  and  then  the  roof  also  became  hard  and  dry  and 
strong. 

Day  after  day  the  busy  ants  worked.  They  made  more  pillars 
above  the  first  ones,  and  threw  more  arches  over  them  until  they 
had  built  a  house  big  enough  for  all  to  live  in.  It  had  long, 
winding  passages  everywhere  under  the  arches,  and  tiny  little 
rooms  opening  into  the  passages.     Over  all  this  they  put  a  cover- 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  363 

ing  of  earth,  with  oh !  so  many  doors  ana  windows  in  it ;  and 
then  the  house  was  done. 

One  morning  little  Mrs.  Flyaway  went  hastily  out  of  one  of 
the  doors.  Naughty  Mrs.  Flyaway !  She  was  going  to  run 
away.  She  wanted  to  see  that  beautiful  green  world  that  lay  all 
about. 

She  had  not  got  very  far  when  three  or  four  other  ants  went 
tumbling  out  of  the  doors  and  windows  and  ran  as  fast  as  they 
could  after  her. 

These  little  ants  were  not  quite  as  pretty  as  Mrs.  Flyaway ; 
they  had  no  lovely  gauzy  wings.  They  were  very  patient  and 
industrious,  however,  and  worked  hard  all  day  for  the  Flyaways 
(there  were  other  Flyaways  besides  the  one  we  know)  ;  and  work- 
ing hard  for  other  people  is  much  better  than  being  only  beauti- 
ful to  look  at,  isn't  it? 

You  see  three  kinds  of  ants  lived  in  this  one  house.  There 
were  the  Mr.  Flyaways,  who  had  four  wings  and  were  very  grand, 
the  Mrs.  Flyaways  who  had  two  wings,  and  the  dear  little  workers 
who  hadn't  any  wings  at  all. 

When  the  worker  ants  caught  up  to  our  Mrs.  Flyaway,  one  of 
them  said,  breathing  very  hard  through  the  breathing  pores  in 
his  sides,  '*0  my  dear  friend,  what  a  run  so  early  in  the  morn- 
ing! You  must  come  right  back  home.  Why,  what  would  we 
poor  workers  do,  if  we  let  the  Flyaways  leave  us?  " 

**  Yes,"  said  another,  ''pretty  soon  you  will  have  some  little 
baby  ants,  and  we  have  made  room  for  them  in  the  big,  brown 
house.  If  you  don't  stay  there  you  will  have  no  home  for  them." 
So,  coaxing  and  teasing,  they  got  Mrs.  Flyaway  back  to  the  house. 

But  their  troubles  were  not  over  then,  for  either  this  Mrs.  Fly- 
away or  some  other  was  always  trying  to  run  away.  The  work- 
ers were  more  than  busy  keeping  them  at  home  and  finding 
enough  food  for  them. 

One  beautiful  day,  in  spite  of  all  their  care,  Mrs.  Flyaway 
was  lost.  They  had  just  given  up  searching  for  her,  when  who 
should  come  running  toward  home  but  that  dear  little  lady 
herself. 

**Come,"  she  cried  in  great  excitement.  "Come  !  See  what 
I  have." 


364  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

They  all  ran  after  her  as  fast  as  possible,  and  what  do  you 
think  she  showed  them,  carefully  hidden  under  a  leaf?  Twenty 
little  eggs ! 

'*See!"  said  Mrs.  Flyaway  joyously,  **My  little  baby  ants 
will  come  out  of  these  eggs." 

Mrs.  Flyaway  might  have  been  called  Mrs.  Stay-at-home  after 
this,  for,  would  you  believe  it?  she  never  wanted  to  run  away 
any  more  1  She  just  felt  like  staying  at  home  and  watching  those 
eggs  day  and  night.  So  she  took  off  her  pretty  little  wings  and 
laid  them  aside,  knowing  that  she  wouldn't  need  them  any  more. 

'*  Yours  will  be  the  first  babies  this  year,"  said  somebody. 

*'They  won't  be  babies  at  all  if  we  aren't  careful,"  said  one 
experienced  old  ant. 

The  little  mother  looked  very  anxious. 

''  We  must  get  them  in  out  of  the  dew ;  "  the  same  ant  added, 
"those  tender  little  eggs  can  not  stand  the  cool,  damp  night 
air."  At  this  the  ants  went  to  work,  and  before  the  sun  went 
down  the  eggs  were  all  in  the  brown  house. 

Everybody  was  up  early  next  morning  to  take  the  eggs  out 
again  and  spread  them  in  the  sunshine.  At  noon  time  the  eggs 
had  to  be  changed  again  and  put  under  a  plantain  leaf  because 
the  sun  grew  too  warm.  You  can  imagine  that  all  this  kept  them 
very  busy,  morning,  noon  and  night. 

One  morning  when  Mrs.  Flyaway  woke  up,  she  felt  something 
moving.  She  looked  down,  expecting  to  see  a  little  ant.  But 
what  do  you  think  had  come  out  of  the  eggs  instead?  Twenty 
little  grubs — little  fat  things  with  no  legs  and  no  wings.  Mrs. 
Flyaway  was  very  much  surprised  at  first  and  a  little  disap- 
pointed, but  she  soon  grew  to  think  they  were  the  most  beautiful 
babies  a  mother  ever  possessed. 

Oh !  how  much  they  did  eat.  Why,  it  took  twenty  workers 
besides  their  proud  little  mother  to  find  enough  honey-dew  for 
them  to  eat,  and  to  protect  them  from  heat  and  cold. 

The  grubs  were  not  to  be  grubs  always.  Before  many  days 
passed  they  spun  themselves  silky  cocoons,  rolled  themselves  up 
tight  and  went  to  sleep,  looking  like  twenty  little  barleycorns. 
They  slept  so  many  days  that  their  mother  became  quite  anxious. 
**  Isn't  it  time  to  wake  them?  "  she  said. 


'IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  365 

**  Just  about  time,"  said  a  little  worker.  *' You  know  we  will 
have  to  cut  open  the  cocoons.  The  babies  will  not  be  able  to 
get  out  unless  we  do."  Now  the  ants  who  attended  to  this  did 
not  have  any  scissors  or  knives,  but  they  had  something  which 
answered  just  as  well.  Teeth?  No,  but  mandibles — parts  of 
their  mouths  which  they  use  for  all  such  work.  With  these 
mandibles  the  ants  cut  a  hole  in  each  cocoon. 

You  would  never  guess  what  came  out  of  those  cocoons ! 
Grubs  do  you  think?  No,  indeed.  Twenty  little  full-fledged 
ants — some  Fly  away  s  and  some  workers — came  out,  rubbing  their 
eyes  and  yawning. 

**"W"ell,"  exclaimed  their  mother  in  the  wildest  excitement, 
"  those  babies  have  caused  me  continual  surprise  ever  since  I  first 
saw  the  eggs,  but  this  is  the  greatest  surprise  of  all.'* 

Ada  Cook. 


FLOWERS. 


To  THE  Teacher:— 

Flowers  are  always  welcome  and  ap- 
propriate in  kindergarten,  and  those  chil- 
dren are  fortunate  whose  teacher  brings 
to  them  these  pretty  chronicles  of  each 
season  as  it  passes.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
have  a  great  bouquet;  even  one  flower  will 
give  the  children  pleasure. 

For  this  talk  a  plant  with  buds  and 
blossoms  would  be  best.  Pansies,  nastur- 
tiums and  other  flowers  which  show  the 
"  honey  streaks  "  will  be  necessary.  Let 
the  children  taste  the  nectar  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  flowers — lilacs,  clover,   etc.     If 

flowers   ai«  easily  available,  ask  the  children  to  bring  some  to  talk  about 

during  the  week. 


THE  TALK. 


(Recalling  the  interesting  little  workers  talked  of  last  week, 
the  children's  thoughts  can  be  naturally  directed  to  flowers. 
Let  the  children  name  all  the  kinds  of  flowers  familiar  to  them, 
and  tell  of  what  colors  and  of  what  shapes  they  are  and  which 
of  them  are  fragrant.) 

What  kind  of  flowers  did  you  see  in  the  winter?  Where  did 
they  grow?  In  doors.  Why?  What  kinds  did  you  see  in  the 
early  spring?  What  kinds  have  we  in  kindergarten  to-day? 
Where  did  they  grow?  What  helped  them  to  grow?  (Sunshine 
and  rain  and  the  earth  in  which  they  were  planted.)  Would 
this  flower  grow  (holding  up  a  cut  flower)  if  I  should  plant  it? 
Why  not?  What  do  the  roots  do  for  the  plants ?  Is  it  pure  water 
which  they  drink?  No,  it  has  soaked  through  the  ground  and 
taken  what  the  plants  need  from  the  soil. 

When  this  juice  soaks  up  from  the  roots  it  goes  into  another 
part  of  the  plant.     What  part  is  that?     The  stem.     And  from  the 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


367 


stem  where  does  it  go?  Into  the  little  stems,  into  the  leaves  and 
into  the  flowers.  Do  you  remember  what  we  call  this  juice  of 
the  plant?  It  is  called  sap.  We  spoke  of  it  when  we  were  talking 
about  trees ;  and  we  had  maple  sugar  in  kindergarten  because 
maple  sugar  is  made  of  sap.  When  we  have  cut  flowers  and  put 
them  in  water,  the  water  takes  the  place  of  sap  for  a  little  while. 
Let  us  look  at  one  of  the  kindergarten  plants  and  tell  all  its 
parts.  The  roots  under  the  ground,  then  the  stems,  then  the 
leaves  and  flowers.     Little  plants  have  all  these  parts,  just  as 


guJ^  >nd  J^Jovyer^.  v^ 


big  trees  have.  Isn't  it  wonderful  that  all  this  could  come  from 
one  tiny  seed?  (The  children  will  be  ready  to  tell  of  the  kinder- 
garten seed  planting  and  its  results.) 

Do  you  remember  what  we  found  on  the  trees  early  in  spring, 
before  we  could  see  any  leaves?  Leaf-buds.  And  what  do  we 
find  on  the  plant  before  we  can  have  any  flowers?  Flower-buds, 
of  course.      (Show  bud.) 

At  first  the  bud  is  very  small  indeed,  having  within  it  only  the 
beginning  of  a  flower ;  but  it  grows  and  grows,  and  by  and  by  the 
bud  opens  and  the  flower  unfolds  itself.  Just  before  the  bud 
opened,  the  pretty  flower  was  packed  and  folded  in  the  bud 
about  as  closely  as  the  butterfly  with  his  big  wings  was  packed 
in  the  chrysalis.  Flowers  are  so  beautiful  and  so  sweet  that  every- 
body loves  them.  Even  if  they  were  good  for  nothing  but  to  be 
beautiful  and  sweet  we  should  be  glad  to  have  flowers  grow ;  but 
they  are  useful  besides. 

Certain  little  creatures  with  baskets  on  their  legs  and  a  bag 


368  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

inside  the  body  would  not  know  where  to  go  to  market  if  it  were 
not  for  the  flowers.  What  do  bees  get  from  flowers  to  put  into 
their  baskets?  Pollen  for  bee-bread.  What  do  they  carry  home 
in  their  bags?  Can  you  think  of  any  other  insect  which  sips 
honey  from  flowers?  How  do  the  bee  and  the  butterfly  get  the 
honey  from  the  deep  flower-cups?  Many  other  insects  like 
honey,  too. 

(Show  some  flowers  having  streaks  or  veins  on  the  petals,  and 
call  attention  to  these  lines.) 

Who  would  think  these  lines  were  of  any  use?  It  seems  as  if 
they  were  only  to  make  the  flower  prettier  ;  but  they  really  are  of 
use  to  the  bees.  When  a  bee  lights  on  a  flower,  it  sees  these 
streaks  and  knows  that  they  point  to  the  place  where  the  flower 
keeps  its  honey.  Isn't  that  interesting?  It  is  a  sign  which  says 
to  the  bee  :   **  This  way  for  honey  !  " 

But  the  most  wonderful  use  of  the  flower  is  still  to  be  told. 
What  do  we  plant  in  order  to  have  flowers?  Seeds.  But  where 
do  seeds  come  from?  (Some  of  the  children  may  remember  that 
certain  fruits  contain  seeds ;  if  so,  trace  back  to  the  blossom.) 

Ah !  it  is  the  flowers  which  do  the  great  work  of  seed  making. 
The  flowers  which  are  not  plucked  but  which  remain  on  the 
plants  seem  to  fade  away  ;  but  it  is  not  the  whole  flower,  it  is  only 
the  pretty  petals  which  fade  and  drop  off.  The  other  parts  (point 
out  the  pistil  and  stamens  to  the  children,)  stay  on  the  plant  and 
flnally  make  the  seeds.  What  kind  of  seeds  would  this  flower 
have  made  if  it  had  stayed  on  the  plant?  And  if  we  planted 
those  seeds  what  would  grow?  Each  flower  makes  its  own  kind 
of  seeds ;  and  no  other  kind  of  seed  can  grow  into  just  that  par- 
ticular kind  of  flower.  Now  would  you  like  to  know  what  the 
flowers  say?  A  lady  (Susan  Coolidge)  tells  us  in  some  pretty 
verses : — 

The  red  rose  says:   "  Be  sweet," 

And  the  lily  bids:   "  Be  pure," 
The  hardy,  brave  chrysanthemum, 

"  Be  patient  and  endure." 
The  violet  whispers :    "  Give, 

Nor  grudge  nor  count  the  cost." 
The  woodbine,  "  Keep  on  blossoming 

In  spite  of  chill  and  frost." 


VHICH  DO  YOU  LIKE  BEST? 


370  IN   THE  child's  world. 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

lotany,    -------  Gray,  Hooker,  Newell,  Youmans 

lEow  to  Know  the  Wild  Flowers,      -        -        -        -        -       Mrs.  W.  S.  Dana 

Flowers  and  their  Pedigree,      --------         Allen 

Flower  Object  Lessons     ---------  L^  Maout 

Life  of  a  Primrose  ("  Fairy  Land  of  Science  "),  -  -  Arabella  Buckley 
Wild  Flowers  and  Where  they  Grow,  .  -  -  -  Amanda  B.  Harris 
Song  of  Life,  --------         Margaret  Morley 

The  Sensitive  Plant, -        -       Shelley 

Little  Flower  People,        ---- Hale 

Hymn  to  the  Flowers,       --------     Horace  Sr/iith 

Flowers,  ---- Hood 

The  Question,  -.- Shelley 

To  the  Rhodora, Emerson 

Chorus  of  Flowers, Leigh  Hunt 

Nature  and  the  Poet,         -         -        -- Keats 

To  a  Mountain  Daisy, Bums 

Flower  in  the  Crannied  Wall, Tennyson 

A  Lay  of  the  Early  Rose,  1  ha       r> 

The  Deserted  Garden,        [      " Mrs.  Browning 

For  the  Children. 

St.  Elizabeth  and  the  Roses  \  (  "  Kindergarten  Stories  and 

PabyCaUi  /         Morning  Talks »),         -        -       S.  B.  Wiltse 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  371 


STORIES. 
What  They  Did* 

*'  0  mamma  !  '*  cried  Carrie  Edwards  as  she 
entered  the  dining  room,  where  a  basket  of 
choice  flowers  stood  upon  the  center  table, 
?1^"*  ""'^here  did  they  come  from?  "  **They  are 
yours,  my  dear,"  her  mother  answered. 
**  Your  father  called  at  Mr.  Brown's  green- 
house this  morning,  and  he  sent  them  to  you. 
He  said  that  last  winter,  when  his  little  boy  was  hurt  at  school, 
you  cared  for  him  until  help  came  from  home.  It  seems  he  never 
forgot  the  act ;  and  so  he  has  sent  you  this  bouquet,  with  his 
kindest  regards." 

Carrie's  face  flushed  with  pleasure. 

**  I  had  almost  forgotten  about  it,"  she  said.  "  Little  Willie 
Brown  fell  from  his  sled  while  coasting,  and  his  arm  was  broken. 
I  only  picked  him  up  and  held  him  till  others  came.  But  these 
flowers  are  such  beauties  !  It  seems  a  pity  that  all  their  sweet- 
ness should  be  wasted  on  me.  There,  mamma,  I  have  it !  I  met 
the  minister  on  the  street  a  moment  ago,  and  he  looked  so  sad. 
Frank  is  still  very  sick,  they  say,  and  takes  scarcely  any  notice 
of  what  is  going  on  about  him.  He  is  so  fond  of  flowers,  you 
remember,  mamma.  Last  summer,  when  he  called  with  his 
father,  my  pink  rosebush  was  in  full  bloom,  and  I  gave  him 
one.  He  was  delighted  with  it ;  and  I  saw  him,  when  he  thought 
no  one  was  looking,  caress  it  lovingly.  May  I  share  my  flowers 
with  him?  " 

**  Yes,  dear,  if  you  like.  They  are  yours  to  dispose  of  as  you 
please." 

A  little  later  the  minister's  wife  said,  coming  into  her  boy's 
room,  **Frankie,  darling,  see  what  Carrie  Edwards  has  sent  you." 
The  lad  opened  his  eyes,  and  a  smile  of  joy  lighted  his  face. 
*'For  me?"  he  whispered. 

**  Yes,  dear,"  Mrs.  Voorhees  answered  ;  ''  the  man  who  brought 
them  said  Miss  Carrie  sent  them." 


372  IN  THE  child's  world. 

The  boy  held  them  to  his  lips,  and  inhaled  their  sweetness  with 
a  pleasure  his  mother  rejoiced  to  see. 

"Don't  take  them  away,"  he  whispered. 

"You  shall  have  them  right  here,  dear." 

Then  he  closed  his  eyes,  and,  with  his  face  buried  in  the 
flowers,  lay  for  a  long  time  so  quietly  that  his  mother  thought 
he  had  fallen  asleep. 

"  Mamma  !  "  he  suddenly  whispered. 

"Yes,  Frank." 

"I  have  been  thinking  of  Tommy  Brown  around  the  comer. 
You  know  he  has  to  sit  all  day  long  in  that  little  smoky  room 
while  his  mother  washes ;  for  he  cannot  walk  a  step.  May  I  share 
my  flowers  with  him?  " 

"If  you  wish." 

Tommy  Brown  sat  by  the  window,  in  his  mother's  bare  little 
room,  gazing  at  the  noisy  scene  across  the  street.  His  mother 
had  been  busy  washing  all  day,  and  was  tired  and  cross.  Tommy 
could  scarcely  see  through  the  window  panes,  so  thickly  were  they 
covered  with  smoke  and  dust.  The  scene  outside  could  not  be 
called  an  interesting  one,  but  there  was  so  little  to  divert 
Tommy's  mind  that  he  strove  his  best  to  keep  watch  of  what 
went  on  in  the  street.  But  it  was  hard  work  to  peer  through  the 
steamy,  grimy  window.  He  sighed,  then  took  his  little  hand 
and  tried  to  clean  the  dirt  from  the  pane.  What  he  saw  made 
him  forget  the  smoke  and  the  boys  across  the  street;  for  he 
got  a  glimpse  of  a  man  bearing  in  his  hand  a  bouquet  of  flowers. 

"Oh!"  he  gasped,  "how  glad  I  am  I  saw  them.  I  wonder 
how  they  happened  to  come  down  this  street?  " 

A  knock  sounded  at  the  door. 

"For  Tommy,  from  Master  Frank,"  said  a  voice. 

"  Not  the  minister's  boy?  "  cried  Mrs.  Brown. 

"  The  same,  ma'am.  He  had  a  gift  to-day,  and  he  was  always 
one  to  share  a  blessing  with  others." 

"  O  mother  !  "  was  all  Tommy  said.  Then  he  sat  very  quietly 
for  an  hour  or  more,  very  carefully  fingering  each  tiny  blossom, 
with  his  eyes  full  of  untold  happiness.  After  all,  it  was  such  a 
good  world  to  live  in,  when  he  was  remembered  by  a  sick  boy, 
and  such  a  boy  as  Frank  Voorhees. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  373 

A  moment  later  he  cried:  **What  was  that?  Oh!  yes,  I 
know,  it  is  little  Bessie,  upstairs.  She  has  been  alone  all  day- 
while  her  mother  is  out  working,  and  she  is  growing  tired,  I 
reckon.  Why  couldn't  I  spare  her  half  of  my  flowers?  I  ought, 
if  Frank  Voorhees  could  spare  them  for  me.  Mother,"  Tommy 
said,  **  would  you  mind  going  up  stairs  to  little  Bessie's  room 
with  part  of  these  flowers?  " 

Tommy's  mother  would  usually  have  minded  such  a  trip  as 
this  very  much,  but  the  gift  of  flowers  had  softened  her  heart. 
A  few  minutes  later  Mrs.  Brown  stood  by  little  Bessie's  cot, 
where  the  child  was  wasting  her  strength  in  tears. 

**  Here's  some  flowers  Tommy  sent  to  you,  and  the  minister's 
sick  boy.  Master  Frank,  sent  them  to  him." 

The  child  gave  a  cry  of  joy  and  gathered  the  flowers  to  her 
bosom.     "  I  never  saw  such  beautiful  flowers  before,"  she  said. 

Only  a  few  flowers  !  But  what  little  missionaries  of  love  they 
proved !  Selected. 


The  Plant  Household* 

A  certain  household  well  I  know, 

The  prettiest  ever  seen. 
And  at  its  head  in  fairest  robes 
There  sits  a  dainty  queen ; 
While  all  the  upper  servants  dress 

In  livery  of  green. 

The  cooks  and  those  who  with  them  work 
Are  clad  in  dingy  brown. 
"  No  fancy  dress  for  us!  "  they  say, 
"  A  sober  colored  gown 
Is  better  far  for  work  like  ours 
Than  all  the  green  in  town. 

"  For  we  must  toil  beneath  the  ground. 
And  hard  we  work  indeed, 
That  Lady  Flower  and  all  the  rest 

May  have  the  food  they  need. 
To  choosing  and  preparing  it 
We  must  pay  strictest  heed." 

"  And  we,"  the  upper  servants  say. 
"  Must  carry  it  with  care 


374  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


And  see  that  every  member  has 

A  full  and  proper  share. 
Thus  day  by  day  we  gladly  work 

To  serve  our  Lady  fair." 

An(i  Lady  Flower  sits  up  aloft 

In  robes  of  rainbow  hue, 
All  perfumed  sweet  and  gold  bedecked 

And  gemmed  with  diamond  dew. 
Was  never  royal  lady  yet 

More  wondrous  fair  to  view. 

And  yet  like  all  her  servitors 

This  little  lady  gay 
Leads  not  a  life  of  idleness, 

But  works  from  day  to  day; 
And  in  her  task  of  making  seeds 

She  gives  her  life  away. 


EmILIE    POOLSSOiS, 


Clytic* 

Clytie  "was  a  beautiful  nymph!  who  lived  among  the  woods  a: 
streams.  Her  golden  hair  was  the  color  of  the  cowslips  in  t 
brook,  and  her  robe  was  of  pale  green — a  color  she  loved  becau 
it  belonged  to  the  young  leaves,  and  to  the  grass  in  sprin 
Sometimes  as  she  sat  in  the  meadow  beside  her  favorite  streai 
where  the  field  flowers  grew  so  tall  as  to  half  hide  her,  she  seem^ 
almost  like  a  flower  herself.  She  loved,  as  she  sat  there,  to  fe 
the  wind  blow  her  hair  about,  and  to  keep  her  face  turned  up 
the  sun,  as  a  flower  turns  in  the  direction  whence  comes  all  : 
light  and  warmth.  The  hot  noon  never  drove  her  indoors  f 
shelter ;  side  by  side  with  the  violets  and  lilies  she  rejoiced 
the  sun's  caressing  warmth,  and  grew  stronger  and  more  beau 
ful  day  by  day. 

Early  in  the  morning,  fresh  as  the  dawn  itself,  she  won 
come  through  the  dewy  grass  to  a  hilltop,  whence  she  could  s 
the  first  pink  flush  come  into  the  sky ;  then  waiting  till  t 
shining  edge  of  the  sun  appeared  over  the  hills,  she  would  gre 
him  as  he  flooded  all  the  world  with  light. 

All  day,  as  she  roamed  the  woods  or  dipped  her  white  feet 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  375 

the  waters  of  the  streams,  she  could  see  him  mounting  higher 
and  higher  in  the  sky,  or  going  down  towards  the  western 
horizon.  If  clouds  came  across  his  face,  she  drooped  and  looked 
unhappy,  but  if  a  sudden  shower  came  down  upon  her  she 
laughed  with  glee,  because  she  knew  then  that  the  sun  would 
soon  show  himself  again.  As  the  afternoon  shadows  lengthened 
she  would  gather  up  her  flowers — the  narcissus  or  the  great 
yellow  lilies  she  had  found — slowly  mount  the  hill  from  which 
she  could  look  towards  the  west,  and  settling  herscjf  into  a  com- 
fortable nook  in  the  rocks,  would  watch  the  great  sun  go  slowly 
down  out  of  sight,  leaving  a  golden  train  of  brightness  behind 
him.  Then,  as  the  flowers  closed  their  petals  and  sank  to  sleep, 
she  brushed  softly  through  the  leaves,  and  soon  was  sleeping  as 
peacefully  herself,  in  her  cool  and  quiet  bower. 

So  the  days  of  this  sun-loving  maiden  were  passed.  She  seemed 
a  creature  made  to  live  in  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  to  grow  under 
its  beams,  as  do  the  flowers.  Apollo,  the  great  sun  god,  who  looks 
down  upon  mortals,  had  seldom  seen  anything  so  beautiful,  as 
he  moved  over  the  wide  fields,  and  because  she  was  so  flower-like, 
and  because  she  so  loved  the  sunbeams  and  showers,  he  deter- 
mined that  she  should  never  die  like  other  mortals,  but  that  she 
should  become  a  flower,  golden-colored  like  her  hair,  and  like 
the  sun  that  she  so  loved  to  look  upon.  The  leaves  are  pale  green, 
and  the  flower,  standing  high  upon  its  stalk,  turns  its  face  to  the 
sun.  It  is  said  that  as  the  sun  moves  slowly  across  the  sky,  the 
flower  turns  its  face  from  east  to  west,  and  for  this  reason  it  is 
called  the  sunflower.*  F.  H. 


The  Indian  Legend  of  the  Trailing  Arbutus* 

On  the  south  shore  of  Lake  Superior,  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Pictured  Rock,  grows  to  perfection  that  dearest  and  sweetest  of 
all  wild  flowers,  the  arbutus,  the  plant  that  the  most  skillful 
florist,  the  plant  that  the  tender,  loving  touch  of  woman,  even, 
cannot  cause  to  grow  in  hothouse  or  garden. 

*  Heliotrope  means  sunflower,  but  no  one  knows  just  what  the  Greek  flower 
was. 


376  m  THE  child's  world. 

From  time  to  time,  while  sitting  by  the  camp  fires  in  the 
evening,  I  have  been  told  of  the  creation  of  many  animals  and 
birds  by  the  great  Mannaboosho  and  his  captains  the  Manitos. 
And  this  is  the  legend  as  told  me,  of  the  origin  or  creation  of  the 
arbutus : — 

It  was  many,  many  moons  ago  there  lived  an  old  man  alone  in 
his  lodge,  beside  a  frozen  stream  in  the  forest ;  his  locks  and  beard 
were  long  and  white  with  age.  He  was  heavily  clad  in  fine  furs, 
for  all  the  world  was  winter, — snow  and  ice  everywhere ;  the 
winds  went  wild  through  the  forests,  searching  every  bush  and 
tree  for  birds  to  chill,  chasing  evil  spirits  o'er  hill  and  vale,  and 
the  old  man  went  about  searching  in  deep  snow  for  pieces  of 
wood  to  keep  up  the  fire  in  his  lodge.  In  despair  he  returned  to 
his  lodge,  and  sitting  down  by  the  last  few  dying  coals,  he  cried 
to  Mannaboosho  that  he  might  not  perish.  And  the  winds  blew 
aside  the  door  of  the  lodge  and  there  came  in  a  most  beautiful 
maiden.  Her  cheeks  were  red  and  made  of  wild  roses  ;  her  eyes 
were  large  and  glowed  like  the  eyes  of  fawns  at  night ;  her  hair 
was  long  and  black  as  the  raven's,  and  it  touched  the  ground  as 
she  walked  ;  her  hands  were  covered  with  willow  buds  ;  her  bonnet 
was  a  wreath  of  wild  flowers,  and  her  clothing  of  sweet  grasses 
and  ferns,  and  her  moccasins  were  white  lilies,  and  when  she 
breathed  the  air  of  the  lodge  it  became  warm. 

The  old  man  said  : — 

**My  daughter,  I  am  glad  to  see  you;  my  lodge  is  cold  and 
cheerless,  but  it  will  shield  you  from  the  tempest  of  the  night ; 
do  tell  me  who  you  are,  that  you  dare  to  come  to  my  lodge  in 
such  strange  clothing?  Come,  sit  here  and  tell  me  of  thy  country 
and  victories,  and  I  will  tell  thee  of  my  exploits,  for  I  am  Manito." 

He  then  filled  two  pipes  with  tobacco,  that  they  might  smoke  as 
they  talked,  and  when  the  smoke  had  warmed  the  old  man's 
tongue  he  said  : — 

**I  am  Manito.  I  blow  my  breath,  and  the  waters  of  the  river 
stand  still." 

The  maiden  said : — 

**I  breathe,  and  flowers  spring  up  on  all  the  plains.*^ 

The  old  man  said : — 

**  I  shake  my  locks,  and  snow  covers  all  the  ground.*' 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  377 

"I  shake  my  curls,"  said  the  maiden,  '*and  warm  rains  fall 
from  the  clouds." 

The  old  man  said : — 

**When  I  walk  about,  the  leaves  fall  from  the  trees;  at  my 
command  the  animals  hide  in  their  holes  in  the  ground,  and  the 
birds  get  up  out  of  the  water  and  fly  away." 

The  maiden  said  : — 

**When  I  walk  about,  the  plants  lift  up  their  heads,  the  trees 
cover  their  nakedness  with  many  leaves,  the  birds  come  back,  and 
all  who  see  me  sing.     Music  is  everywhere." 

And  thus  they  talked,  and  the  air  became  warm  in  the  lodge. 
The  old  man's  head  dropped  upon  his  breast  and  he  slept.  Then 
the  sun  came  back,  and  a  bluebird  came  to  the  top  of  the  lodge 
and  called  :  *'  Say-ee,  say-ee,  I  am  thirsty  ;  "  and  the  river  called 
back :  *'  I  am  free  ;  come  and  drink." 

And  as  the  old  man  slept,  the  maiden  passed  her  hands  above 
his  head,  and  he  began  to  grow  small ;  streams  of  water  ran  out 
of  his  mouth,  and  soon  he  was  a  small  mass  upon  the  ground,  and 
his  clothing  turned  to  green  leaves  ;  and  then  the  maiden,  kneel- 
ing upon  the  ground,  took  from  her  bosom  the  most  precious 
white  flowers,  and  hid  them  all  about  under  the  leaves ;  then  she 
breathed  upon  them  and  said:  "1  give  thee  all  my  virtues  and 
my  sweetest  breath,  and  all  who  would  pick  thee  shall  do  so  upon 
bended  knee." 

Then  the  maiden  moved  away  through  the  woods  and  over  the 
plains,  and  all  the  birds  sang  to  her,  and  wherever  she  stepped, 
and  nowhere  else,  grows  the  arbutus. 

C.  E.  Belknap. 


The  Little  Plant. 

In  the  heart  of  a  seed 
Buried  deep,  so  deep, 

A  dear  little  plant 
Lay  fast  asleep. 

Wake!  "  said  the  sunshine 
"  Apd  creep  to  the  light," 


378  IN  THE  child's  world. 

"  Wake!  "  said  the  voice 
Of  the  raindrops  bright. 

The  little  plant  heard, 
And  it  rose  to  see 

What  the  wonderful 
Outside  world  might  be. 

In  ^^ American  Teachet." 


Kate  L.  Brown, 


0  DafiEy-do wn-dilly !   so  brave  and  so  true, 

1  wish  all  were  like  you ; 

So  ready  for  duty  in  all  sorts  of  weather 

And  showing  forth  courage  and  beauty  together.' 


"  Come,  my  love,  and  do  not  spurn 
From  a  little  flower  to  learn. 
Let  your  temper  be  as  sweet 
As  the  lily  at  your  feet; 
Be  as  gentle,  be  as  mild, 
Be  a  modest,  simple  child." 


"  Whatever  mine  ears  can  hear. 
Whatever  mine  eyes  can  see, 
In  nature  so  bright  with  beauty  and  light 
Has  a  message  of  love  for  me." 


SUMMER. 


To  THE  Teacher: — 


The  subject  of  the  seasons  comes  up  so  many  times  that  the  children  will 
surely  be  ready  with  a  good  deal  of  conversation.  Therefore  the  outline  of  this 
talk  is  very  simple,  first  merely  taking  a  look  backward  and  forward  to  review 
the  seasons  and  to  notice  that  each  brings  special  joys;  and  then  calling  out 
the  children's  reminiscences  of  summer. 


THE  TALK. 

Did  any  of  you  meet  Jack  Frost,  when  you  came  to  kinder- 
garten this  morning?  No,  I  am  sure  you  did  not.  The  warm 
sunshine  has  chased  him  away  long  before  this.  When  will  Jack 
Frost  be  here  again?  In  the  winter.  Tell  something  more  about 
the  winter.  What  season  came  after  winter?  What  did  spring 
bring?  Summer  is  coming  now.  (Question  as  to  the  characteris- 
tics of  summer  and  compare  with  those  of  spring.)  We  have 
spoken  of  winter,  spring  and  summer,  and  there  is  one  more 
season,  the  season  when  the  birds  fly  away  to  warmer  lands,  when 
the  leaves  change  from  green  to  red,  yellow  and  brown,  when 
the  farmer  gathers  his  harvest  in  for  the  winter,  and  when  the 
flowers  have  made  their  seeds. 

Surely,  you  remember  that  all  this  was  in  autumn.  Who  can 
name  the  four  seasons  now?  Do  they  all  bring  us  something 
beautiful?  (Show  the  children  that  we  could  have  no  spring  if 
it  were  not  for  winter,  no  autumn  if  we  had  had  no  summer.) 
If  it  were  summer  all  the  year,  what  should  we  miss? 

Here  is  a  little  verse  about  the  seasons  : — 

Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  Winter, 

All  are  beautiful  and  dear — 
Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  Winter 

Make  a  joyous,  varied  year. 


380  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

(Lead  the  children  to  contrast  the  seasons  so  that  they  will 
notice  how  much  pleasure  comes  from  the  variety  afforded  by  the 
change  of  season.) 

What  do  you  think  the  farmer  will  be  doing  all  summer? 
Hoeing  and  weeding  in  the  cornfield,  potato  field  and  garden, 
gathering  peas,  beans,  and  other  vegetables,  picking  cherries, 
berries,  and  other  earh?-  fruits. 

What  does  the  farmer  do  with  all  these  things?  Sends  or 
takes  them  to  market,  so  that  city  people  who  have  no  fields  and 
gardens  can  buy  fresh  fruits  and  vegetables. 

In  some  of  the  farmer's  fields  we  should  see  only  grass  growing. 
What  will  the  farmer  do  with  that?  (Describe  haymaking, 
and  let  the  children  tell  what  animals  eat  hay.  Speak  of  sum- 
mer rains,  thundershowers  and  rainbows.) 

What  are  you  children  going  to  do  this  summer?  Are  you 
coming  to  kindergarten?  No,  it  will  be  vacation.  Those  who 
expect  to  go  away  during  the  summer  vacation  may  tell  where 
they  are  going. 

(The  talk  may  be  concluded  with  an  imaginary  trip  to  the 
seashore,  some  children  enacting  the  waves  running  up  on  the 
shore  and  then  retreating,  other  children  pretending  to  play  in 
the  sand  and  others  imitating  crabs,  etc.,  on  the  shore.) 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Pepacton,         -        -        -        - John  Burroughs 

A  Vision  of  Sir  Launf  al, Lowell 

A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream, Shakespeare 

They  Come,  the  Merry  Summer  Months,  -        -        .      William  Motherwell 

Summer  (Journal),  - H.  D.  Thoreau 

Thank  God  for  Summer,  -        -  .      -        -        -        -        -         Eliza  Cook 

Summer  Wind,  "] 

A  Summer  Ramble,    I Bryant 

An  Evening  Reverie,  J 

Al  Fresco, Lxiwell 

Grasshopper  and  Cricket,  _-------        Keats 

Grasshopper, Leigh  Hunt 

Summer  Woods, Mary  Howitt 

Atai^ofsrS^e,} ^-^^"^ 


AT  THE  SEASHORE, 


382  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

STORffiS. 
How  the  Beans  Came  Up* 

Alice  May  was  a  little  city  girl  who  lived  in  a  brick  house 
which  was  just  like  all  the  other  houses  on  the  street,  except  that 
some  of  them  had  gardens  in  front,  while  Alice's  house  had  but 
a  tiny  strip  of  green  grass. 

When  the  warm  spring  days  came,  and  all  the  people  along  the 
street  were  planting  their  flower  seeds,  Alice  longed  for  just  one 
little  seed  that  she  might  plant  it,  and  perhaps  some  day  have  a 
blossom  all  her  own.  And  one  day,  when  *'  Uncle  Peter,"  as  she 
called  the  good  old  scissors  grinder,  came  along,  she  told  him  all 
about  it. 

*'  So  you  want  some  seeds,  do  you?  "  said  he.  "Where  would 
you  plant  them?  ''  *'  Oh  !  just  here,  in  this  corner  by  the  step," 
said  Alice,  **  where  they  would  get  the  warm  sunshine,  and  I 
could  water  and  watch  them  every  day." 

**  Well,  how  will  these  do?  "  said  Uncle  Peter,  drawing  a  hand- 
ful of  Lima  beans  from  his  pocket;  ''I'm  taking  some  home  to 
plant  myself,  but  I  guess  I  can  spare  you  these  if  you  want  them." 

'*  May  I  have  them?  Oh,  thank  you,  Uncle  Peter  !  I'll  plant 
them  right  away,  and  take  just  the  best  care  of  them."  And  as 
Uncle  Peter  trudged  off,  he  saw  Alice  digging  holes  with  a  little 
stick,  dropping  the  beans  in  and  covering  them  with  earth. 
Then  she  had  to  wait  for  them  to  come  up ;  it  seemed  a  long 
time.  Every  morning  the  first  thing  she  did  was  to  run  out  on 
the  doorstep  to  see  if  there  were  any  little  green  sprouts,  such  as 
she  could  see  in  the  gardens  all  along  the  street.  One  morning 
she  found — what  do  you  think?  No  little  sprigs  of  green,  but 
five  beans,  all  split  open,  out  on  the  ground  !  "  Dear  me,"  she 
thought,  *'I  didn't  plant  them  deep  enough!"  So  she  took  a 
handful  of  earth  and  patted  it  down  hard  over  each  bean.  But 
in  two  or  three  more  days,  there  they  were  again,  five  beans,  split 
in  halves,  on  top  of  the  ground.  Alice  covered  them  again,  and 
yet  again,  for  they  came  peeping  up  four  or  five  times.  Then, 
after  a  while,  they  did  not  come  up  any  more  :  there  was  nothing 
for  Alice  to  look  at  but  the  brown  earth. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


383 


One  morning  Uncle  Peter  came  to  see  how  the  beans  looked, 
and  Alice  told  him  all  about  it ;  how  they  did  not  send  out  any 
green  shoots,  but  just  popped  up  themselves,  and  how  they  had 
not  appeared  at  all  since  she  last  covered  them.  *'  Dig  down  and 
see  what  you  find,"  said  Uncle  Peter.  Alice  found  the  little 
beans,  all  dried  and  withered  ;  and  Uncle  Peter  said  :  **  You  see 
they  are  good  for  nothing  now.  After  you  planted  them,  they 
sent  down  little  roots  to  hold  themselves  firmly  in  place  and 
pushed  themselves  up  out  of  the  ground.  If  you  had  waited, 
you  would  have  seen  two  little  green  leaves  grow  from  between 
the  halves  of  each  bean,  and  then  two  more,  and  they  would  have 
kept  growing  till  you  would  have  had  some  nice  little  vines  by 
this  time.  But  it  isn't  too  late  to  try  again.  Come  home  with 
me  and  I'll  give  you  some  more  beans.  This  time  just  plant 
them  and  let  them  alone." 

Alice  did  as  she  was  told.  Before  many  days  the  beans  popped 
up,  and  this  time  she  did  not  cover  them  at  all,  but  waited  and 

watered  them,  and  the  sun 
shone  on  them,  and  they  sent 
up  first  one  pair  of  leaves, 
then  another,  and  another, 
till  they  were  little  vines, 
ready  to  climb .  Then  Uncle 
Peter  came  and  set  some 
poles  for  them  to  twine 
around,  and  they  liked  it 
very  much.  They  climbed 
and  climbed,  and  soon  Alice 
saw  some  white  blossoms  on 
her  bean  vines.  She  did  not 
pick  them,  but  waited  to  see 
what  would  come  of  them. 
By  and  by  the  blossoms  dropped  off,  and  some  tiny  bean  pods 
grew  in  their  places  ;  and  oh,  how  fast  they  grew  ! 

At  last,  one  day,  before  Jack  Frost  came,  Alice  found  that  her 
beans  were  ready  to  pick.  So  she  picked  them  and  took  them 
in  to  her  mamma,  who  cooked  them  for  dinner.  There  were 
enough  for  all  to  have  a  taste — her  papa  and  mamma,  and  all 


384  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

the   brothers   and   sisters ;  and   they   thought   the   beans   were 
very  nice. 

The  next  year  Alice  planted  some  more  beans,  and  this  time 
she  did  not  cover  them  up  when  they  popped  out  of  the  ground, 
but  waited  for  the  green  sprouts  to  appear ;  and  there  was  time 
for  ever  so  many  beans  to  grow  and  ripen  before  the  frost  came. 

F.  E.  Mann. 

From  "  The  Woman's  Journal,^''  Boston,  Mass. 


Mabel  on  Midsummer  Day* 

PART  I. 

"  Arise,  my  maiden,  Mabel," 
The  mother  said;   "  Arise, 
For  the  golden  sun  of  midsummer 
Is  shining  in  the  skies.  \ 

"  Arise,  my  little  maiden. 
For  thou  must  speed  away 
To  wait  upon  thy  grandmother, 
This  livelong  summer  day. 

"  And  thou  must  carry  with  thee 
This  wheaten  cake  so  fine, 
This  new-made  pat  of  butter. 
This  little  flask  of  wine. 

"  And  tell  the  dear  old  body 
This  day  I  cannot  come, 
For  the  good  man  went  out  yester-morn, 
And  he  is  not  come  home. 

"  And  more  than  this,  poor  Amy 

Upon  my  knee  doth  lie; 

I  fear  me  with  this  fever  pain 

The  little  child  will  die! 

"  And  thou  canst  help  thy  grandmother; 
The  table  thou  canst  spread, 
Canst  feed  the  little  dog  and  bird. 
And  thou  canst  make  her  bed. 

"  And  thou  canst  fetch  the  water 
From  the  lady-well  hard  by ; 
And  thou  canst  gather  from  the  wood 
The  fagots  brown  and  dry. 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  385 

"  Canst  go  down  to  the  lonesome  glen, 
To  milk  the  mother  ewe; 
This  is  the  work,  my  Mabel, 
That  thou  wilt  have  to  do. 

"  But  listen  now,  my  Mabel; 
This  is  midsummer  day, 
When  all  the  fairy  people 
From  elf -land  come  away. 

*'  And  when  thou  'rt  in  the  lonesome  glen^ 
Keep  by  the  running  burn, 
And  do  not  pluck  the  strawberry  flower, 
Nor  break  the  lady  fern. 

"  But  think  not  of  the  fairy  folk 
Lest  mischief  should  befall;  . 
Think  only  of  poor  Amy, 
And  how  thou  lov'st  us  all. 

'*  Yet  keep  good  heart,  my  Mabel, 
If  thou  the  fairies  see, 
And  give  them  kindly  answer 
If  they  should  speak  to  thee. 

"  And  when  into  the  fir  wood 
Thou  go'st  for  fagots  brown, 
Do  not,  like  idle  children. 
Go  wandering  up  and  dow» 

"  But  fill  thy  little  apron. 

My  child,  with  earnest  speed; 
And  that  thou  break  no  living  bough 
Within  the  wood,  take  heed. 

"  For  they  are  spiteful  brownies 
Who  in  the  wood  abide. 
So  be  thou  careful  of  this  thing, 
Lest  evil  should  betide. 

"  But  think  not,  little  Mabel, 

Whil'st  thou  art  in  the  wood, 
"  Of  dwarfish,  wilful  brownies. 

But  of  the  Father  good. 


386  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


"  And  when  thou  goest  to  the  spring 
To  fetch  the  water  thence, 

"  Do  not  disturb  the  little  stream, 
Lest  this  should  give  offence. 

"  For  the  queen  of  all  the  fairies, 
She  loves  that  water  bright; 
I've  seen  her  drinking  there  myself 
On  mauy  a  summer  night. 

"  But  she's  a  gracious  lady, 

And  her  thou  need'st  not  fear: 
Only  disturb  thou  not  the  stream, 
Nor  spill  the  water  clear." 

"  Now  all  this  will  I  heed,  mother; 
Will  no  word  disobey. 
And  wait  upon  the  grandmother 
This  livelong  summer  day." 

PART   II. 

Away  tripped  little  Mabel, 
'vVith  the  wheaten  cake  so  fine. 

With  the  new-made  pat  of  butter, 
And  the  little  flask  of  wine. 

And  long  before  the  sun  was  hot 
And  summer  mist  had  cleared. 

Beside  the  good  old  grandmother 
The  willing  child  appeared. 

And  all  her  mother's  message 
She  told  with  right  good  will, 

How  that  her  father  was  away 
And  the  little  child  was  ill. 

And  then  she  swept  the  hearth  up  clear, 

And  then  the  table  spread, 
And  next  she  fed  the  dog  and  bird, 

And  then  she  made  the  bed. 

"  And  go  now,"  said  the  grandmother, 
"  Ten  paces  down  the  dell, 
And  bring  in  water  for  the  day, — 
Thou  know'st  the  lady-well  " 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  387 


The  first  time  that  good  Mabel  went, 

Nothing  at  all  saw  she 
Except  a  bird,  a  sky-blue  bird, 

That  sat  upon  a  tree. 

The  next  time  that  good  Mabel  went, 

There  sat  a  lady  bright 
Beside  the  well, — a  lady  small, 

All  clad  in  green  and  white. 

A  courtesy  low  made  Mabel, 

And  then  she  stooped  to  fill 
Her  pitcher  at  the  sparkling  spring. 

But  no  drop  did  she  spill. 

"  Thou  art  a  handy  maiden," 

The  fairy  lady  said; 
"  Thou  hast  not  spilt  a  drop,  nor  yet 

The  fairy  spring  troubled! 

"  And  for  this  thing  which  thou  hast  done 
Yet  mayest  not  understand, 
I  give  to  thee  a  better  gift 
Than  houses  or  than  land. 

"  Thou  shalt  do  well  whate'er  thou  dost. 
As  thou  hast  done  this  day; 
Shalt  have  the  will  and  power  to  please. 
And  shalt  be  loved  alway." 

Thus  having  said  she  passed  from  sight; 

And  naught  could  Mabel  see 
But  the  little  bird,  the  sky-blue  bird. 

Upon  the  leafy  tree. 

"  And  now,  go,"  said  the  grandmother, 
"  And  fetch  in  fagots  dry; 
All  in  the  neighboring  fir-wood 
Beneath  the  trees  they  lie." 

Away  went  kind,  good  Mabel, 

Into  the  fir  wood  near. 
Where  all  the  ground  was  dry  and  brown 

And  the  grass  grew  thin  and  sere. 


388  IN  THE  child's  world. 


She  did  not  wander  up  and  down, 

Nor  yet  a  live  branch  pull, 
But  steadily  of  the  fallen  boughs 

She  picked  her  apron  full. 

And  when  the  wild-wood  brownies 

Came  sliding  to  her  mind, 
She  drove  them  thence,  as  she  was  told, 

With  home  thoughts  sweet  and  kind. 

But  all  that  while,  the  brownies 

Within  the  fir  wood  still. 
They  watched  her  how  she  picked  the  wood 

And  strove  to  do  no  ill. 

"  And  oh!  but  she  is  small  and  neat," 
Said  one;   "  'twere  shame  to  spite 
A  creature  so  demure  and  meek, 
A  creature  harmless  quite!  " 

"  Look  only,"  said  another, 
"  At  her  little  gown  of  blue; 
At  her  kerchief  pinned  about  her  head^. 
And  at  her  little  shoe!  " 

"  Oh!  but  she  is  a  comely  child," 
Said  a  third;   "  and  we  will  lay 

A  good-luck  penny  in  her  path, 
A  boon  for  her  this  day — 

Seeing  she  broke  no  living  wood 
No  live  thing  did  affray! 

With  that  the  smallest  penny 

Of  the  finest  silver  ore, 
Upon  the  dry  and  slippery  path, 

Lay  Mabel's  feet  before. 

With  joy  she  picked  the  penny  up, 

The  fairy  penny  good; 
And  with  her  fagots  dry  and  brown 

Went  wandering  from  the  wood. 

"  Now  she  has  that,"  said  the  brownies, 
"  Let  flax  be  ever  so  dear. 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  389 

'Twill  buy  her  clothes  of  the  very  best, 
For  many  and  many  a  year!  " 

"  And  go  now,"  said  the  grandmother, 
"  Since  falling  is  the  dew, 
Go  down  unto  the  lonesome  glen, 
And  milk  the  mother  ewe." 

All  down  into  the  lonesome  glen. 

Through  copses  thick  and  wild. 
Through  moist  rank  grass,  by  trickling  streams 

"Went  on  the  willing  child. 

And  when  she  came  to  the  lonesome  glen, 

She  kept  beside  the  burn. 
And  neither  plucked  the  strawberry  flower 

Nor  broke  the  lady  fern. 

And  while  she  milked  the  mother  ewe 

Within  this  lonely  glen. 
She  wished  that  little  Amy 

Were  strong  and  well  again. 

And  soon  as  she  had  thought  this  thought, 

She  heard  a  coming  sound 
As  if  a  thousand  fairy  folk 

Were  gathering  all  around. 

And  then  she  heard  a  little  voice, 

Shrill  as  the  midge's  wing, 
That  spake  aloud, — "  A  human  child 

Is  here;  yet  mark  this  thing,— 

"  The  lady  fern  is  all  unbroke. 
The  strawberry  flower  unta'en! 
What  shall  be  done  for  her  who  still 
From  mischief  can  refrain?  " 

"  Give  her  a  fairy  cake!  "  said  one; 
"  Grant  her  a  wish!  "  said  three; 
'*  The  latest  wish  that  she  hath  wished," 
Said  all,  "  whate'er  it  be!  " 

Kind  Mabel  heard  the  words  they  spake, 
And  from  the  lonesome  glen 


390  nr  THE  child's  world. 


Unto  the  good  old  grandmother 
Went  gladly  back  again. 

Thus  happened  it  to  Mabel 

On  that  midsummer  day; 
And  these  three  fairy  blessings 

She  took  with  her  away. 

'Tia  good  to  make  all  duty  sweet, 

To  be  alert  and  kind; 
'Tis  good  like  little  Mabel 

To  have  a  willing  mind. 

Mary  Howitt. 


The  Story  of  a  Breeze^ 

Once  upon  a  time  a  little  Breeze  who  had  been  playing  all  day 
with  the  leaves  and  flowers,  said  to  himself:  *'0  dear!  I'm  of 
no  use  at  all.  I  do  nothing  but  play.  I  mean  to  ask  the  great 
strong  Wind  if  I  may  go  with  him  to-morrow  and  help  him  in 
his  work." 

So  the  Breeze  was  waiting  in  the  early  morning  when  the  Wind 
started  on  his  daily  journey  over  the  earth.  When  he  came 
rushing  through  the  tree  where  the  little  Breeze  had  played  for 
so  many  long  days,  he  heard  a  soft  voice  like  the  rustling  of 
leaves,  saying ;  *'  Please,  dear,  strong  Wind,  may  I  go  with  you 
and  help  you  to-day?  "  The  Wind  was  in  a  great  huriy,  and  said 
as  he  rushed  along :  **  Why,  yes,  my  dear,  if  you  really  wish  to 
help."  This  made  the  Breeze  so  happy  that  he  darted  on, 
dancing  and  fluttering  over  the  grass,  and  still  keeping  ahead  of 
the  Wind. 

Soon  they  came  to  such  a  queer  building  !  It  was  quite  high 
and  had  a  large  thing  on  one  side  that  looked  somewhat  like  a 
wheel.  In  the  doorway  stood  a  man  talking  with  another  man 
outside.  Said  the  man  outside  ;  **  Well,  Mr.  Miller,  is  my  flour 
ready?  Our  bread  is  all  gone  and  we  have  no  more  flour,  and  the 
children  must  have  something  to  eat." 

"I'm  so  sorry,  Mr.  Smith,"  said  the  Miller,  **but  the  Wind 
has  not  been  blowing  for  two  days,  and  you  know  the  mill  cannot 
grind  the  wheat  unless  the  Wind  turns  the  wheel." 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  391 

At  this  the  little  Breeze  rustled  briskly  forward  and  came 
right  down  close  to  the  man's  face,  whispering  to  him  that  the 
Wind — the  good,  strong  Wind — was  coming  very  soon  to  turn 
the  great  wheel  of  the  mill. 

When  the  miller  felt  the  Breeze  upon  his  face,  he  said  joy- 
fully :  **  I  declare  !  I  really  felt  a  Breeze  !  I  think  the  Wind  is 
going  to  blow." 

By  this  time,  the  great  wheel  was  turning  round  and  round. 
The  Breeze  knew  that  everything  would  be  all  right  now,  so  again 
he  started  on,  as  light-hearted  as  ever,  to  be  the  messenger  of 
the  Wind. 

The  next  place  they  came  to  was  a  little  village  by  the  seashore. 
On  a  landing  at  the  water's  edge  stood  a  woman  with  a  baby  in 
her  arms,  and  a  little  boy  and  girl  by  her  side.  They  were  look- 
ing out  over  the  wide  sea,  which  was  very  smooth  and  beautiful. 
But  the  woman  looked  sad,  and  the  little  girl  was  crying.  What 
do  you  think  they  were  looking  for?  Why,  the  papa  was  a  fish- 
erman, and  he  had  been  out  upon  the  water  for  a  week,  and  the 
mamma  knew  that  he  did  not  have  enough  food  to  keep  him 
from  being  very  hungry  during  that  long  time  ;  and  as  his  boat 
was  a  sailboat,  she  knew  that  he  could  not  get  home  unless  the 
Wind  came  to  help  him 

The  little  Breeze  saw  in  a  moment  what  the  trouble  was ;  so 
he  kissed  the  little  girl  on  her  cheek  and  dried  the  tears  that 
sparkled  there,  lifted  the  golden  curls  on  the  baby's  head,  and 
gently  cooled  the  mother's  aching  brow,  whispering  in  her  ear 
that  the  Wind  was  coming. 

Then  the  little  boy  said:  **0  Mamma!  I  see  waves  on  the 
water!  "  So  the  Breeze  knew  that  the  Wind  was  bringing  the 
father's  boat  home  to  the  dear  ones  waiting  on  the  shore.  He 
stayed  to  see  the  mother  smile  and  the  children  clap  their  hands 
at  the  sight  of  the  white  sail  that  was  now  coming  rapidly  towards 
them  from  far  out  on  the  water. 

Next  the  Wind  and  the  Breeze  came  to  a  large  city.  How 
beautiful  everything  looked !  The  Wind  said  to  the  Breeze : 
"Your  work  is  here;  they  need  you  more  than  they  do  me  in 
the  city."  And  in  another  moment  he  was  gone,  and  the  Breeze 
had  not  even  had  time  to  ask  what  he  was  to  do. 


392  IN   THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

The  houses  were  beautiful  and  large.  Some  were  made  of 
stone,  some  of  marble,  and  some  of  brick ;  and  all  had  parks  and 
gardens  around  them.  The  Breeze  saw  some  children  playing  ; 
so  he  stopped  to  have  a  little  fun  with  them.  He  tossed  their 
kites,  waved  their  flags,  and  led  them  a  merry  chase  after  the 
hats  of  the  little  girls.  Then  he  helped  the  Sun  to  dry  some 
clothes  that  were  hanging  in  a  yard.  In  a  short  time  he  came 
to  a  part  of  the  city  where  the  air  was  very  close  and  hot.  He 
saw  a  great  many  people  working  in  shops  and  mills.  He  saw 
how  warm  and  uncomfortable  they  were.  So  he  flew  in  at  the 
doors  and  windows  and  cooled  the  tired  workmen  till  they  forgot 
their  weariness  and  thought  only  how  nice  it  was  to  be  able  to 
work  for  their  dear  ones  at  home. 

Again  the  Breeze  went  on  his  way ;  and  soon  he  came  to  an- 
other part  of  the  city  where  the  houses  were  crowded — oh,  so 
closely  together  !  There  were  no  nice  yards  here,  no  lace  cur- 
tains at  the  windows  for  the  little  Breeze  to  play  with,  and  the 
children  did  not  seem  to  be  so  merry  as  those  he  had  seen  in  the 
park.  They  just  sat  on  the  sidewalk  and  steps,  the  only  places 
they  had, — with  no  kites,  no  flags,  no  pretty  playthings, — and 
the  little  girls  had  no  hats  at  all ! 

'*I'll  just  peep  in  the  window  and  see  what  kind  of  homes 
these  children  have,"  thought  the  Breeze.  So  he  went  in 
through  an  open  window  and  what  do  you  suppose  he  saw?  On 
a  bed  lay  a  dear  little  girl  whose  face  was  deeply  flushed  and 
who  tossed  from  side  to  side  moaning  pitifully:  "0  Mamma! 
Vm  so  warm  !  "  But  the  mother  was  too  busy  to  stop  and  com- 
fort the  child  ;  she  had  to  do  washing  every  day  so  that  she  could 
earn  money  to  get  the  little  one  and  herself  something  to  eat.  So 
the  Breeze  fanned  the  hot  face  and  brushed  the  damp  air  from 
the  little  brow  till  the  child  dropped  asleep  feeling  comfortable 
and  happy,  and  smiling  as  she  slept. 

**  She  must  be  dreaming  of  the  angels,"  said  the  Breeze,  as  he 
gave  her  a  good-bye  kiss.  A.nd  so  ended  the  day  ;  but  the  Breeze 
still  keeps  on  untiringly  in  his  helpful  and  cheering  tasks,  prov- 
ing a  blessing  wherever  he  goes. 

Mattie  McRoy. 


I 


SUNSHINE 


To  THE  Teacher  :- 


The  most  auspicious  and  inspiring  time  for  a  talk  upon  sunshine,  is  on 
one  of  those  brilliant  days  when  the  universe  seems  flooded  with  its  radi- 
ance. The  effects  of  a  lack  of  sunshine  can  be  strongly  impressed  upon 
the  children  by  planting  the  ever-useful  bean  in  a  pot  and  keeping  it  in 
a  closet  or  other  dark  place.  Let  them  see  what  a  pale,  sickly  plant  it 
becomes,  in  comparison  with  plants  grown  in  sunlight.  Draw  the  parallel  be- 
tween the  plant  and  the  child,  as  to  the  necessity  of  sunlight  for  healthy, 
vigorous  growth. 

If  the  fact  of  the  sun's  standing  still  and  the  earth's  turning  and  taking 
us  away  from  the  light  is  spoken  of,  it  can  be  illustrated  with  a  candle 
for  the  sun  and  a  ball  for  the  earth;  or  by  letting  the  children  "play" 
it  in  a  very  simple  manner;  and  the  following  verse  is  offered  as  the  sun's 
answer  to  "Good  Morning,  Merry  Sunshine,"  where  this  way  of  dealing  with 
the  subject  is  preferred.  (See  Froebel's  explanation  of  "  The  Little  Boy  and 
the  Moon,"  quoted  elsewhere.) 

THE   sun's  answer. 

I  never  go  to  sleep,  dear  child, 

I'm  shining  all  the  night. 
But  as  your  world  goes  turning  round 

It  takes  you  from  my  light. 
And  when  it  brings  you  back  again 

You  find  me  waiting  here. 
To  shine  a  bright  "  Good  morning  "  down 
On  all  the  children  dear. 

E.  p. 

In   many   kindergartens   the   spectrum   is   represented   by   colored   papers 

arranged  on   a  chart.     Besides  this,  let  us  keep  a  prism  or  prisms  hanging 

in  the  window,  so  that  the  children  may  have  ever  before  them  the  mystery  and 

wonder  of  the  real  spectrum  in  all  the  ethereal  radiance  of  its  blended  colors. 


THE  TALK. 


There  is  something  in  this  room  which  came  in  so  softly  that 
no  one  could  possibly  hear  it.  You  can  all  see  it.  Can  you 
guess  what  it  is?  (Give  the  children  suggestions,  more  or  less 
definite,  according  to  their  skill  in  guessing.)     It  came  a  long 


394 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD. 


■way ;  it  can  come  into  the  room  even  when  the  door  is  shut ;  it 
is  out  of  doors,  too,  as  well  as  in  our  room ;  it  is  bright — it  is 
yellow — it  is  warm      "We  say  **  Good  morning"  to  it  very  often. 

Where  did  the  sunshine  come  from?  It  is  a  long  way  from 
the  sun  down  to  us,  is  it  not?  What  shape  is  the  sun?  Can 
you  show  me?  Let  us  sing  *'This  is  the  way  the  sunshine  comes 
down. 

Where  is  the  sunshine  falling  besides  in  our  kindergarten? 
On  the  home  where  mamma  is,  on  the  shop  where  papa  works, 
on  the  farmer's  fields,  on  the  great  ocean  where  the  ships  are 
sailing. 

(Try  to  give  an  impression  of  the  sun's  greatness  by  thus 
drawing  out  that  its  beams  reach  far  and  wide,  over  city  and 
country,  over  land  and  sea.) 

Can  we  always  see  the  sun?  What  hides  it  sometimes?  Did 
you  know  that  the  sun  is  always  shining,  whether  we  see  it  or 
not — even  in  the  night  time?  Our  world  turns  round,  and  so 
takes  us  away  from  the  light,  but  the  sun  is  shining  just  as 
brightly  as  ever.  That  is  a  wonderful  and  beautiful  thing  to 
think  of,  is  it  not? 

What  is  the  sunshine  doing  all  day  long?  Giving  us  light, 
warming  the  air  and  the  ground,  helping  plants  and  animals  to 
grow,  taking  water  (vapor)  up  into  the  sky,  and  in  every  way 
making  the  world  more  beautiful  and  more  glad 

(Speak  of  the  sunshine  at  different  seasons  of  the  year.  This 
point  and  all  the  work  of  the  sunbeams  has  been  dwelt  upon  in 
other  talks,  so  that  much  should  be  drawn  from  the  children  on 
this  whole  subject.  Remind  the  children  of  the  glazier  as  the 
one  whose  work  gives  us  our  windows  through  which  sunlight 
enters  our  homes,  schools,  etc.     Play  the  **  Light  Bird.") 

Would  you  like  to  catch  a  sunbeam?  Can  we  catch  it  in  our 
hands  and  keep  it?  No,  but  I  have  a  glass  by  which  we  can  find 
out  something  very  beautiful  about  the  sunbeams.  (Show  the 
prism,  and  hold  or  fix  it  in  the  sunlight.)  What  do  you  see? 
Tell  me  all  the  colors  you  can  see. 

(Repeated  observations  of  the  spectrum  will  be  needed  before 
the  children  can  distinguish  all  the  colors.) 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  rainbow?     Where  was  it?     Do  you 


THE  RAINBOV* 


395 


396  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 

remember  what  the  weather  was,  whether  it  was  rainy  weather 
or  bright  weather?  It  must  have  been  both  at  once  !  For  we 
never  have  rainbows  in  the  sky  except  when  the  sun  shines  while 
it  is  raining.  The  raindrops  show  us  all  the  colors  which  the 
sunbeams  hold,  just  as  this  prism  shows  them.  We  can  some- 
times see  the  rainbow  colors  in  soap  bubbles,  too,  or  in  water 
which  stands  in  the  sunlight. 

Can  you  find  each  one  of  the  rainbow  colors  in  the  room? 


TEACHER'S  READING. 

Explanation  of  "The  Light  Bird,"  etc., Froebel 

The  Sun, C.  A.  Young 

Sun,  Moon  and  Stars,       --------   Agnes  Gibeme 

The  Fairyland  of  Science  (Chap.  II),       -         -         -         -         Arabella  Buckley 

Forms  of  Water,       ----------       Tyndall 

Modern  Chromatics,  ---------  Rood 

Hymn  before  Sunrise  in  the  Vale  of  Chamouni,        -         -         .         -   Coleridge 

Address  to  Light, ----        Milton 

A  Day  of  Sunshine,  --------  Longfellow 

Sunshine, -----       Mary  Howitt 

To  the  Rainbow,       -        -         -        -        -        --        -        -        -   Campbell 

Man  and  Nature,  "1  ^yr       r,         • 

The  Prospect,       } Mrs.  Browning 

The  Church  Windows,     ---------     Herbert 

The  Thunderstorm,  -------  Emily  Dickinson 

The  Light  of  Life, Mrs.  Catty 

For  the  Children* 

The  Dawn  Princess  ("Stories  for  Kindergarten  and  Home"). 


STORIES. 

The  Wind  and  the  Sun* 

The  blustering  Wind  was  stalking  up  and  down  an  open  field 
one  day,  rejoicing  aloud  in  his  great  strength.  "Oh,  I  am 
strong,  indeed!"  he  roared.  "I  breathe,  and  the  grasses  bow 
down  before  me.     I  wave  my  hand,  and  the  reeds  and  the  bushes 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  397 

bend  or  snap.  I  can  break  even  the  stout  tree  branches,  merely 
by  taking  hold  of  them.  **  Oh,  yes;  I  am  strong!  Who  is 
stronger? '' 

As  he  stopped  and  his  rough,  roaring  tones  died  away,  a 
gentle  voice  said:  **  I  am  strong,  too.  Perhaps  stronger  than 
you  ;  who  knows  ?  ' ' 

''Who  is  that?  "  roared  the  Wind. 

''It  is  I,  the  Sun,"  said  the  same  mild  voice. 

"  You  strong  !  "  said  the  Wind.  "  You  !  with  your  soft  ways 
and  gentle  smiles  !  Can  you  move  mighty  windmills?  Can  you, 
with  a  few  touches,  raise  the  wild  waves  upon  the  ocean?  Can 
you  break  the  strong  oak,  the  king  of  the  forest?  " 

"I  am  strong !  "  said  the  Sun  again.  "  I  can  do  many  things 
that  you  cannot  do.  Shall  we  try  our  strength?  Yonder  comes 
a  traveler,  wearing  a  heavy  cloak.  Let  us  see  which  of  us  can 
force  him  to  lay  it  aside,  and  agree  that  the  one  who  does,  shall 
be  called  the  stronger." 

The  Wind  could  not  help  giving  a  pleased  whistle  at  this  easy 
task,  for  he  thought  that  he  should  probably  get  the  traveler's 
cloak  off  by  one  strong  gust. 

"  You  may  make  the  first  trial,"  said  the  Sun. 

Away  went  the  Wind.  He  met  the  traveler  near  the  middle  of 
the  field  and  began  to  tug  at  the  cloak.  It  flapped  about  a  little, 
and  the  traveler  fastened  it  more  securely.  The  Wind  tugged 
again  and  howled  fiercely.  The  traveler  took  the  edges  of  the 
cloak  in  his  hands  and  wrapped  it  closely  about  him.  Again  the 
wind  puffed  and  pulled  and  tugged.  The  bottom  of  the  cloak 
fluttered,  but  the  man  only  held  it  more  and  more  closely  about 
him.  "  Who  would  have  thought  there  was  such  a  wind  to-day?  " 
said  the  traveler,  as  he  struggled  on. 

The  Wind  kept  trying  for  some  time,  but  without  success ;  and 
he  was  quite  ready  to  give  up  when  the  Sun  claimed  his  turn. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  do  anything  at  all !  "  said  the  Wind  ; 
"  for  my  angriest  howls  and  my  roughest  pulls  have  only  made 
him  hold  his  cloak  the  more  tightly." 

"  I  had  not  meant  to  try  that  way,"  replied  the  Sun.  "  Anger 
and  roughness  are  not  what  I  shall  use."  Then  the  Sun  smiled 
down  upon  the  traveler.     Not  a  sound  was  heard ;  but  softly. 


398  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD- 


steadily,  silently,  the  Sun  kept  shining.  The  traveler,  who  had 
been  using  all  his  strength  to  keep  his  cloak  about  him,  now 
found  the  air  quiet  again,  and  walked  on  more  easily.  Soon  he 
loosened  his  hold  of  the  cloak.  The  Sun  kept  on  shining,  softly, 
steadily,  silently ;  and  the  traveler  began  to  think  his  cloak  too 
thick,  so  he  unfastened  it  and  threw  it  open.  Still  the  Sun 
kept  on  shining,  softly,  steadily,  silently. 

At  last  the  traveler  said  :  **  How  strange  !  A  little  while  ago 
I  felt  that  I  could  not  hold  my  cloak  too  closely,  and  now  I  am 
glad  to  throw  it  off  entirely."  So  saying  he  took  off  his  heavy 
cloak  and  sat  down  under  a  tree  to  cool  himself  in  the  shade. 

And  the  Wind  saw  and  acknowledged  that  the  quiet  Sun  was 
indeed  powerful  and  had  won  the  title  of  '*the  stronger;"  for 
without  noise,  without  bluster,  without  anger,  the  Sun  had  suc- 
ceeded in  making  the  traveler  take  off  his  cloak,  when  the  Wind 
had  found  it  impossible. 

Retold  by  E.  P. 


The  Sunbeams. 

•*  Now,  what  shall  I  send  to  the  Earth  to-day?  " 

Said  the  great,  round,  golden  Sun. 
"  Oh!  let  us  go  down  there  to  work  and  play," 
Said  the  Sunbeams,  every  one. 
So  down  to  the  Earth  in  a  shining  crowd, 

Went  the  merry,  busy  crew; 
They  painted  with  splendor  each  floating  cloud 
And  the  sky  while  passing  through. 
"  Shine  on,  little  stars,  if  you  like,"  they  cried, 
"  We  will  weave  a  golden  screen 
That  soon  all  your  twinkling  and  light  shall  hide, 

Though  the  Moon  may  peep  between." 
The  Sunbeams  then  in  through  the  windows  crept 

To  the  children  in  their  beds — 
They  poked  at  the  eyelids  of  those  who  slept, 
Gilded  all  the  little  heads. 
"  Wake  up,  little  children!  "  they  cried  in  glee, 
And  from  Dreamland  come  away! 
We've  brought  you  a  present,  wake  up  and  seel 
We  have  brought  you  a  sunny  day!  " 

Emilie  Poulsson. 
""  The  Kindergarten." 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  399 


The  Story  of  the  Moming-GIory  Seed* 

A  little  girl  one  day  in  the  month  of  May  dropped  a  morning- 
glory  seed  into  a  small  hole  in  the  ground  and  said:  **Now, 
morning-glory  seed,  hurry  and  grow,  grow,  grow  until  you  are 
a  tall  vine  covered  with  pretty  green  leaves  and  lovely  trumpet 
flowers."  But  the  earth  was  very  dry,  for  there  had  been  no  rain 
in  a  long  time,  and  the  poor  wee  seed  could  not  grow  at  all. 

So,  after  lying  patiently  in  the  small  hole  for  nine  long  days 
and  nine  long  nights,  it  said  to  the  ground  around  it:  *' O 
ground,  please  give  me  a  few  drops  of  water  to  soften  my  hard, 
brown  coat,  so  that  it  may  burst  open  and  set  free  my  two  green 
seed-leaves,  and  then  I  can  begin  to  be  a  vine  !  "  But  the  ground 
said :   **That  you  must  ask  of  the  rain.*' 

So  the  seed  called  to  the  rain:  *'0  rain,  please  come  down 
and  wet  the  ground  around  me  so  that  it  may  give  me  a  few 
drops  of  water.  Then  will  my  hard,  brown  coat  grow  softer  and 
softer  until  at  last  it  can  burst  open  and  set  free  my  two  green 
seed-leaves,  and  I  can  begin  to  be  a  vine  !  "  But  the  rain  said  : 
**  I  cannot  unless  the  clouds  hang  lower." 

So  the  seed  said  to  the  clouds :  ''  O  clouds,  please  hang  lower 
and  let  the  rain  come  down  and  wet  the  ground  around  me,  so 
that  it  may  give  me  a  few  drops  of  water.  Then  will  my  hard, 
brown  coat  grow  softer  and  softer  until  at  last  it  can  burst  open 
and  set  free  my  two  green  seed-leaves,  and  I  can  begin  to  be  a 
vine  !  "     But  the  clouds  said  :   ''  The  sun  must  hide,  first." 

So  the  seed  called  to  the  sun :  **  O  sun,  please  hide  for  a  little 
while  so  that  the  clouds  may  hang  lower,  and  the  rain  come 
down  and  wet  the  ground  around  me.  Then  will  the  ground 
give  me  a  few  drops  of  water  and  my  hard,  brown  coat  grow 
softer  and  softer  until  at  last  it  can  burst  open  and  set  free  my 
two  green  seed-leaves,  and  I  can  begin  to  be  a  vine  !  "  **  I  will,*' 
said  the  sun,  and  he  was  gone  in  a  flash. 

Then  the  clouds  began  to  hang  lower  and  lower,  and  the  rain 
began  to  fall  faster  and  faster,  and  the  ground  began  to  get 


400  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

wetter  and  wetter,  and  the  seed-coat  began  to  grow  softer  and 
softer,  until,  at  last,  open  it  burst ! — and  out  came  two  bright 
green  seed-leaves,  and  the  morning-glory  seed  began  to  be  a  vine  1 

Margaret  Eytinge. 

"5/.  Ncholas:' 


The  "Watcf  Bloom* 

A  child  looked  up  in  the  summer  sky 

Where  a  soft,  bright  shower  had  just  passed  by; 

Eastward  the  dusk  rain-curtain  hung, 

And  swiftly  across  it  the  rainbow  sprung. 

"  Papa!      Papa!   what  is  it?  "  she  cried, 
As  she  gazed  with  her  blue  eyes  opened  wide 
At  the  wonderful  arch  that  bridged  the  heaven, 
Vividly  glowing  with  colors  seven. 

"Why,  that  is  the  rainbow,  darling  child," 

And  the  father  down  on  his  baby  smiled. 
"  What  makes  it.  Papa?  "     "  The  sun,  my  dear, 

That  shines  on  the  waterdrops  so  clear." 

Here  was  a  beautiful  mystery! 

No  more  questions  to  ask  had  she. 

But  she  thought  the  garden's  loveliest  flowers 

Had  floated  upward  and  caught  in  the  showers — 

Rose,  violet,  orange  marigold — 
In  a  ribbon  of  light  on  the  clouds  unrolled! 
Red  of  poppy  and  green  leaves,  too, 
Sunflower  yellow,  and  larkspur  blue. 

A  great,  wide,  wondrous,  splendid  wreath 
It  seemed  to  the  little  girl  beneath ; 
How  did  it  grow  so  fast  up  there. 
And  suddenly  blossom,  high  in  the  air? 

She  could  not  take  her  eyes  from  the  sight; 
"  Oh,  look!  "  she  cried  in  her  deep  delight. 

As  she  watched  the  glory  spanning  the  gloom, 

"  Oh,  look  at  the  beautiful  water  bloom!  " 

Celia  Thaxter. 
Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


THE  MOON  AND  STARS. 


To  THE  Teacher:-- 

"  When  a  child  first  sees  and  contemplates  natural  objects  whose  being 
he  is  still  unable  to  grasp,  he  believingly  accepts  true  as  well  as  false  explana- 
tions from  grown-up  people;  and  he  finds  both  equally  easy  and  equally 
difficult  whenever  he  tries  to  grasp  one  or  the  other,  if  on  any  occasion  both 
relate  to  the  way  to  look  at  any  given  object.  And  so,  no  doubt,  to  begin  with, 
a  child  is  not  helped  in  his  view  and  grasp  whether  he  be  taught  to  know  the 
moon  as  a  man  or  as  a  beautiful,  bright,  swimming  ball;  whether  the  stars  be 
pointed  out  to  him  as  golden  pins,  or  burning  lights,  or  as  sparkling  suns  which 
look  so  small  because  they  are  so  far  off.  But  while  the  first  explanation  is,  in 
spite  of  its  apparent  liveliness,  a  dead  one,  the  latter  bears  within  it  the  foundation  of 
a  living,  further  de.velopment,  that  may  lead  to  inner  and  more  thorough  insight.^'' 

(From  Froebel's  explanation  of  "The  Little  Boy  and  the  Moon,"  in 
Mother's  Songs,  Games  and  Stories.) 


THE  TALK. 

(Question  the  children  upon  the  observations  called  out  by  the 
talk  upon  "Sunshine  "  and  lead  them  to  tell  what  else  is  seen  in 
the  sky.)      Is  the  moon  alone?     What  does  she  have  for  com- 
pany?    Can  we  see  the  moon  and  stars  every  night? 
No  ;  they  are  sometimes  hidden  by  the  clouds  just  as 
the  sun  is,  but  they  are  in  the   sky  night  and  day, 
even  when  we  do  not  see  them. 

How  many  of  you  have  seen  the  moon  ? 
What  color  is  it?  Does  it  always  look 
round?  (Have  pictures  which 
show  the  full  moon,  new  moon, 
etc.,  and  explain,  if  the  children 
are  ready  for  such  explanation, 
that  we  can  only  see  the  moon 
when  it  is  made  bright  by  the  light  of  the  sun — only  the  part 
which  shines,  though  the  whole  moon  is  in  the  sky  all  the  time. 
Tell  the  children  Jean  Ingelow's  verse  in  which  the  child  says  : — 


402  IN   THE  child's  WORLB. 

"  O  moon,  in  the  night  I  have  seen  you  sailing 
And  shining  so  round  and  low. 
You  were  bright,  ah!   bright,  but  your  light  is  failing 
You  are  nothing  now  but  a  bow." 

Speak  of  the  Indian's  way  of  counting  time  by  so  many 
'*  moons,"  and  of  our  word  **  month.") 

Which  looks  larger,  the  moon  or  the  stars?  Are  there  many 
stars?  More  than  even  the  wisest  man  knows.  Are  the  stars 
beautiful?  Are  they  useful?  (Explain  how  *'  the  traveler  in  the 
dark  "  on  land  or  sea  can  guide  his  course  by  the  stars  as  well  as 
see  by  their  light.  Remind  the  children  of  the  star  story  of  Christ- 
mas tide,  if  they  do  not  mention  it.  Frequent  use  of  songs 
about  the  moon  and  the  stars  will  direct  the  children's  thoughts 
to  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  the  subject  should  be  recurred  to 
after  a  little  time  has  elapsed,  as  the  children  will  then  be  more 
ready  with  questions  and  their  own  observations.  Artificial 
lights  furnish  material  for  another  talk;  lights  at  home,  street 
lights  and  the  lighthouse  with  its  work  of  mercy,) 


TEACHER'S  READING, 

Explanation  of  "  The  Child  and  the  Moon,"  etc.,       -         -         -         .      Froeha. 
The  Expanse  of  Heaven,  --o-_._»      Proctor 

Easy  Star  Lessons,  -         -         -        ".-        -         -        -         -      Proctor 

Wonders  of  the  Moon,      ---------   GuilUmin 

Among  the  Stars, Agnes  Gibeme 

The  Firmament,  ---         =         .---.       Ruskin 

Child's  Dream  of  a  Star,  --------     Dickens 

The  Will  o' the  Wisp,       -----,---        Mrs  .Catty 

The  Spacious  Firmament  on  High,   -         o        -        -         -        -         -     Addison 

Hymn  to  the  Moon,  --------       Ben.  Jonson  ■ 

Self  Dependence, --..  m.  Arnold 

To  the  North  Star,  .---„-o-.       Bryant 

The  Light  of  Stars,  ----        =        ---  Longfellow 

For  the  Childten. 

The  Waning  Moon, Celia  Thaxter 

The  Wind  and  the  Moon,  ------      George  MacDonald 

The  Legend  of  the  Great  Dipper  ("  Kindergarten  Stories 

and  Morning  Talks ") S,  E.  Wiltss 


UTTLE  LINDA. 


403 


404  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


STORffiS. 

Linda  and  the  Lights* 

Linda  was  a  little  child  who  was  very  fond  of  looking  up  into 
the  sky.  She  lived  in  a  small  village  near  the  sea,  for  her  father 
was  a  fisherman.  Linda  liked  to  play  down  by  the  sea,  digging 
wells  in  the  sand,  making  sand  hills  or  sand  pies,  or  gathering 
the  pretty  shells  which  the  waves  brought  to  her ;  but  she  would 
sometimes  leave  all  this  play  and  sit  quietly  on  a  big  rock,  look- 
ing at  the  wide  blue  sea  and  the  wide  blue  sky, — the  sea  dotted 
with  the  white  sails  of  the  ships,  and  the  sky  with  white  clouds. 

As  she  looked  at  the  clouds,  she  used  to  say  over  a  little  verse 
that  someone  had  taught  her : — 

"  White  sheep,  white  sheep, 

On  a  blue  hill, 
When  the  wind  stops 

You  all  stand  still ; 
When  the  wind  blows 

You  walk  away  slow — 
White  sheep,  white  sheep. 

Where  do  you  go  ?  " 

She  often  fancied  that  the  cloud  masses  did  look  like  snowy 
sheep  and  lambs  roaming  over  a  broad  blue  field. 

At  night,  too,  Linda  loved  to  look  up  into  the  sky.  When 
the  full  moon  came  out  in  all  its  round,  silver  splendor,  throwing 
such  floods  of  brightness  everywhere,  she  wondered  whether  any- 
thing could  be  more  beautiful.  When  she  saw  the  tiny  new 
moon — crescent- shaped,  timid,  lovely — glimmering  out  among 
the  stars,  she  wondered  the  same  about  that,  and  sang  with 
delight : — 

"  0  mother,  how  pretty  the  moon  looks  to-night! 
She  was  never  so  cunning  before! 
Her  two  little  horns  are  so  sharp  and  so  bright, 
I  hope  she  won't  grow  any  more." 


IN  THE  CHILD*S  WO!lLD.  405 

As  she  sang  the  whole  pretty  song,  Linda  would  imagine  her- 
self up  in  that  **  bright  cradle,"  rocking  and  floating  in  some 
wonderful  way,  and  coming  home  down  the  glowing  curve  of  a 
rainbow. 

Then  there  were  the  starry  nights  when  the  whoie  dark  sky 
was  spangled  with  sparkling,  twinkling  lights.  Linda  always 
looked  for  the  Dipper  and  for  the  North  Star  to  which  it 
pointed.  Her  father  had  told  her  of  some  sailors  who  would 
have  been  lost  on  the  sea  if  they  had  not  had  the  North  Star  by 
which  to  guide  their  boat  home,  so  she  loved  the  stars  for  this, 
as  well  as  for  their  beauty. 

While  Linda  was  still  a  little  girl,  her  father  went  on  a  long 
sea  voyage  and  Linda  and  her  mother  went  to  live  in  the  city. 
The  noisy  streets,  the  houses  crowded  close  together — every- 
thing was  strange  to  Linda,  and  she  missed  the  shining,  rolling 
sea,  and  the  rocks  and  the  sand ;  but  at  night  when  she  stood  at 
the  window  to  look  at  the  sky,  as  she  always  did  before  getting 
into  bed,  she  said  joyfully:  **0  mother!  the  sky  is  just  the 
same  here  anyway !  There  is  the  moon,  and  over  there  the 
Dipper,  just  as  I  used  to  see  them  !  "  Her  mother  smiled  to  think 
that  Linda  should  be  so  surprised  at  finding  the  same  sky,  and 
told  her,  as  she  tucked  her  into  bed,  that  the  beautiful  sky  was 
all  over  the  world.  '*  And  the  same  moon  and  the  same  stars?  " 
asked  Linda.  '*The  same  moon  shines  for  all,  dear,"  said  her 
mother,  **but  when  father  has  sailed  far  to  the  south,  he  will 
see  some  stars  which  we  never  see  here.  One  cluster  which  he 
will  see  is  called  the  Southern  Cross,  because  the  stars  make  a 
cross,  just  as  here  some  stars  form  the  Dipper." 

The  next  day,  before  Linda  had  seen  much  of  her  new  sur- 
roundings, a  storm  set  in.  All  day  the  sky  was  dull  and  dark 
with  clouds,  and  at  night  there  was  not  a  star  to  be  seen.  Linda 
was  turning  away  from  the  window  in  disappointment  when  she 
heard  a  rattling  sound  outside,  and  a  strong  light  flashed  into 
the  room.  Looking  out  again,  Linda  saw  a  man  right  at  the 
side  of  the  house  and  on  the  level  with  her  window,  and  the  light 
came  from  a  lamp  which  was  fastened  to  the  house,  and  which 
he  had  just  lighted. 

In  a  moment  he  was  down  on  the  sidewalk  and  hurrying  across 


406  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

the  street  with  his  little  ladder  on  his  shoulder.  Linda  looked 
after  him  with  great  interest.  She  could  see  only  a  little  way 
into  the  darkness  of  the  stormy  night,  but  soon  another  light 
flickered  through  the  mist  half-way  up  the  block,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  street.  Linda  ran  to  the  window  in  the  next  room, 
from  which  she  could  see  farther ; — yes  !  there  was  another  light 
beyond,  and  there,  still  another!  '*0  mother!  Isn't  it  beauti- 
ful? See  the  lights!  Did  you  know  there  were  lamps  in  the 
street?  And  mother,  see  how  light  the  lamp  outside  makes  my 
room  !  I  shall  not  need  any  other  light  to  go  to  bed  by.  Are  they 
lighted  every  night,  mother?  "  **  Not  in  this  city,"  answered  her 
mother.  **Here  they  are  only  lighted  on  stormy  nights,  and 
nights  when  there  is  no  *  moon/  as  we  say — that  is,  when  we 
cannot  see  the  moon." 

The  next  night  was  also  stormy  and  Linda  was  quite  ready  to 
go  early  up  stairs,  to  see  the  street  lamps  lighted. 

Soon  she  saw  a  light  far  down  the  street, — then  another 
nearer, — and  yes  !  that  was  the  rattle  of  the  ladder  against  the 
house  ;  and  there  suddenly,  was  the  lamplighter  himself,  right 
beside  her  window  again  !  Linda  clapped  her  hands  and  laughed 
outright,  and  what  do  you  think?  The  lamplighter  looked  up 
at  the  window  and  smiled  at  her. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  an  acquaintance.  Linda  called  him 
her  lamplighter,  and  was  always  on  the  watch  for  him  on  darls^ 
nights.  She  had  many  questions  to  ask  him  about  the  city  lights  ; 
and  from  what  he  told  her  of  their  number,  and  from  noticing 
herself  how  many  street  lamps  there  were  everywhere  about, 
Linda  began  to  see  what  a  great  work  it  was  to  light  a  whole 
city.  She  did  not  forget  the  moon  and  stars,  though,  even  when 
she  did  not  see  them.  She  would  look  from  the  street  lamps 
up  to  the  clouded  sky,  realizing  more  and  more  the  power  and 
beauty  of  the  far-off  heavenly  lights — the  millions  of  sparkling 
stars,  and  the  wondrous  moon  which,  with  its  glorious,  silvery 
radiance,  could  light  not  only  the  whole  city  as  no  lamps  could, 
but  sea  and  land  far  and  wide  besides. 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


THE  WEAVER* 


On  this  and  the  following  subjects  of  Wool,  Cotton,  Linen  and  Silk,  the 
suggestions  to  the  teacher  and  "  The  Talks  "  are  combined. 

(Sing  some  of  the  Trade  Songs,  and  then  ask  the  children 
what  kipd  of  work  their  fathers  do.  Let  each  trade  be  repre- 
sented by  a  child,  and  by  one  whose  father  works  at  that  trade, 
as  far  as  possible.  Unless  in  the  region  of  silk,  cotton  or  woolen 
mills,  the  weaver  will  usually  not  be  mentioned  by  the  children. 
To  bring  out  the  necessity  of  his  work,  the  teacher  and  the  other 
children  play  that  they  need  new  clothes,  and  ask  each  of  the 
tradesmen  in  turn  to  make  some  cloth.  Each  tradesman  tells 
what  he  can  do,  but  owns  that  he  cannot  make  cloth.) 

Just  think !  with  all  these  wgrkmen  there  is  not  one  who  can 
make  clothes  for  us  !  What  shall  we  do?  Some  one  must  have 
made  the  cloth  for  all  these  clothes  we  have  !  Let  us  see  if  we 
can  find  out  how  it  is  made.  (Take  coarse  material  of  any  kind — 
cloth,  toweling,  flannel — and  let  the  children  ravel  out  some,  and 
discover  that  it  is  made  of  threads.  Now  how  are  these  threads 
put  together?  If  the  children  do  not  find  out  from  the  cloth 
that  the  threads  are  woven,  a  coarse  piece  of 
ingrain  carpet  will  show  it  very  plainly.  After 
seeing  the  *'  under  and  over  "  in  a  coarse  fabric, 
the  children  should  be  shown  that  the  finer 
Av-f-.V4^^      fabrics  are  made  of  woven  threads,  too.)     All 


the  cloth  from  which  clothes  are  made  has  been 
woven  of  some  kind  of  thread.  Can  you  guess  the  name  of  the 
workman  who  weaves  the  threads  together? 

Did  you  notice  that  the  threads  in  the  cloth  run  two  ways — 
some  up  and  down,  and  some  left  and  right?     Do  you  see  how, 
that  is  like  a  paper  mat  with  the  strings  woven  through  it?     (The 
warp  and  woof,  the  separation  of  the  alternate  threads,  and  the 
way  the  shuttle,  carrying  the  thread,  is  passed  through,  and  this 


408 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


thread  pushed  down,  can  all  be  shown  very  well  with  a  large 
weaving  mat — one  with  narrowest  strips  is  best. 

Let  the  children  name  all  the  articles  they  can  upon  which  the 
weaver  has  worked,  and  lead  them  to  notice  that  heavy  carpets 
and  finest  linens  and  silks  are  the  products  of  the  loom.) 

As  for  the  threads  which  the  weaver  uses — ''that  is  another 
story.*'  ; 


TEACHER^S  READING. 

Description  of  Loom,        -        -        -        -        -        -        -.-     Encyclopedia 

Silas  Marner,  _-----.._       George  Eliot 

The  Betrothed, W.  Scott 

A  New  England  Girlhood,  --.-.--  L.ucy  Larcom 
Spinning  Wheel  Song, J.  F.  Waller 

Sheep  Shearing  (from  "  The  Seasons  " — Spring),  -  -  -  -  Thomson 
The  Unused  Loom  ("  New  Lights  on  Old  Paths  "),  -         -    Charles  Foster 

The  Emperor's  New  Clothes,  -        .        -        .     Hans  Christian  Andersen 

The  Weaver's  Song, B.  W.  Proctor 

My  Sunflower's  Fan,        -        -        -        -        -        -        ''St.  Nicholas,''  1 879 

For  the  Children. 

New  Work  for  Pense  ("  Each  and  All  "),  -  .  -  .  Jane  Andrews 
What  Happened  to  Muslin  (  "  Stories  for  Kindergarten 

and  Home  "), M.  L.  Van  Kirk 

Cloth  and  Paper  Story  ("Kindergarten  Stories  and 

Morning  Talks  »), S.  E.  Wiltse 


STORffiS. 

A  Visit  to  the  Weaver* 

"Annie,"  said  a  lady  to  a  little  girl  who  was  visiting  her, 
**  would  you  like  to  go  with  me  to  the  weaver's  to-day?'* 

"Oh,  yes  !  "  said  Annie,  "  I  should  like  it  very  much.  I  never 
saw  a  weaver  at  work." 

So  they  set  out.  As  they  were  walking  along,  the  lady  told 
Annie  the  story  of  "John's  Trousers,"  so  that  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  house  of  Mrs.  James,  the  weaver,  Annie  knew  not 


IN  THE  CHILD^'S  WORLD.  409 

only  where  the  wool  came  from,  but  also  what  had  to  be  done 
to  it  before  it  was  ready  for  weaving.  Now,  there  are  carding 
mills  and  cloth  mills  in  which  the  carding  and  spinning  and 
weaving  are  done  by  machinery ;  but  the  weaver  whom  Annie 
was  going  to  see  wove  in  the  same  way  that  John's  mother  and 
sisters  did  when  they  made  his  trousers. 

The  story  had  taken  so  much  time  that  they  reached  the 
weaver's  house  soon  after  it  was  ended. 

**  Good  morning,  Mrs.  James,"  said  the  lady ;  **  I  have  brought 
a  little  friend  to  see  you  weave,  if  you  have  no  objection." 

**No,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  James;  "1  shall  be  very  glad  to 
show  her  how  the  work  is  done.  Have  you  ever  seen  a  person 
weave,  little  one?  " 

"  Only  in  kindergarten,"  replied  Annie.  **We  weave  there; 
but  we  weave  mats  with  paper,  or  leather,  or  flannel  list,  or 
braid,  or  tape.     I  never  saw  anyone  weave  cloth  or  carpet." 

**I  never  saw  any  kindergarten  weaving,"  said  Mrs.  James, 
"but  lean  show  you  how  my  loom  works.  The  warp,  as  we 
call  the  yarn  that  is  stretched  on  this  frame,  is  first  wound 
around  that  great  beam  overhead  and  then  drawn  tightly  on  the 
loom.  We  always  measure  three  or  four  yards  more  than  we 
want  for  a  piece  of  cloth  because  some  of  the  length  is  taken  up 
in  the  weaving. 

**Why,  there  are  two  sets  of  threads,"  said  Annie. 

**  Yes  ;  half  of  the  threads  go  through  one  set  of  loops  and  half 
through  the  other,"  said  Mrs.  James. 

**  Oh  !  I  see,"  said  Annie  ;  **  and  that  thing  that  is  full  of  yarn 
is  your  shuttle,  isn't  it?  " 

**Yes.  Now  see  what  happens  when  I  press  down  one  of 
these  treadles  with  my  right  foot,"  said  Mrs.  James. 

*'  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Annie  quickly,  "  half  the  threads  are  lifted 
up,  and  you  throw  the  shuttle  with  your  right  hand  so  that  it 
goes  under  those  threads  and  over  the  others.  That  is  like  our 
weaving — only  we  have  to  lift  up  our  strips  one  at  a  time,  instead 
of  all  together.  No  do  you  press  down  the  other  treadle  with 
your  left  foot?" 

**Not  yet ;  the  cloth  would  be  too  open  if  I  did  not  draw  the 
'strip,'  as  you  call  it,  close  up  to  the  last  one  I  put  in.     See] 


410  IN  THE  child's  .WORLD. 

I  pull  this  bar  toward  me  and  it  pushes  the  strip  closely  in  place. 
In  carpet  weaving  it  is  really  a  strip  that  is  put  through." 

**  We  push  our  strips  up  close,  too,"  said  Annie,  "  but  we  use 
our  fingers  instead  of  a  bar." 

**That  would  do  very  well  for  paper  weaving,"  assented  Mrs. 
James,  *'but  not  for  making  cloth  or  carpets." 

*'No,"  said  Annie,  '*!  see  that;  for  you  pulled  the  bar  very 
hard  and  used  more  strength  than  you  could  with  your  hands 
alone.     What  comes  next?  " 

"I  press  down  the  other  treadle  with  my  left  foot,  as  you 
said,  and  throw  the  shuttle  with  my  left  hand,"  said  Mrs. 
James ;  **then,  the  threads  that  the  shuttle  went  over  before  are 
lifted  up,  so  that  the  shuttle  can  pass  under  them  this  time." 

**And  then  you  pull  up  the  bar  again,  don't  you?"  asked 
Annie. 

**Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  James.  **And  now  I  will  show  you 
how  much  I  can  do  in  ten  minutes.  I  have  been  working  slowly 
so  that  you  might  see  how  the  work  was  done,  but  now  you 
shall  see  me  really  work  !  " 

Then  Mrs.  James  made  the  shuttle  fairly  fly  back  and  forth 
for  a  while,  and  Annie  watched  her  with  wonder,  making  her 
own  little  feet  and  hands  go  just  as  Mrs.  James  did  hers,  though 
not  so  fast. 

After  that  Annie  and  her  friend  thanked  Mrs.  James  for  all 
her  kindness  and  said  *' Good-bye." 

Josephine  Jar  vis. 

Cobden,  III. 

John's  Trousers* 

{A   True  Story.) 

More  than  a  hundred  years  ago  our  country  was  at  war  with 
another  country  called  England,  thousands  of  miles  away.  One 
morning,  just  after  the  war  had  begun,  John  told  his  mother 
that  the  troops  were  out  and  that  he  must  join  them  early  the 
next  day. 

**  What  shall  we  do?  "  exclaimed  the  patriotic  mother ;  *'  John 
must  have  a  new  pair  of  trousers,  and  we  haven't  a  bit  of  cloth 
in  the  house  !  " 


A  VEAVER  AT  HER  LCX)M. 


412  nr  THE  child's  world. 

*'  Nor  any  yarn,  either  !  "  added  Deborah,  '*  I  used  the  last  in 
weaving  the  cloth  for  Charlie's  jacket/' 

**  Something  must  be  done,"  said  the  mother.  **  Perhaps  we  can 
get  the  trousers  made,  even  if  we  have  to  spin  and  weave  them. 
Let  us  try  our  very  best ! '' 

*'  Charlie  and  I  will  cut  the  wool,"  said  Mary,  the  youngest  girl. 

**I  am  afraid  you  cannot  catch  the  sheep,"  said  the  mother. 
"  They  are  in  the  pasture." 

**  We'll  take  some  salt,"  said  Mary.  **  We  can  coax  them 
with  that." 

When  they  reached  the  pasture,  Mary  pointed  out  a  black  sheep 
and  told  Charlie  to  hold  the  salt  toward  it.  Charlie  did  so  and 
the  sheep  came  running  to  him  at  once.  While  the  sheep  was 
licking  the  salt,  Charlie  put  his  arm  around  its  neck  and  held  it 
still  while  Mary  cut  off  some  of  its  wool  with  the  shears.  Then 
they  caught  a  white  sheep  and  sheared  some  of  its  wool  in  the 
same  way.  With  this  black  and  white  wool  in  the  basket  which 
she  carried,  Kate  ran  back  to  the  bouse  so  that  her  mother  and 
Deborah  might  begin  carding  it  at  once.  Mary  and  Charlie  kept 
on  with  their  shearing — first  a  black  sheep  and  then  a  white  one — 
until  plenty  of  wool  had  been  cut. 

After  the  wool  is  cut  from  the  sheep,  it  is  usually  washed  and 
dried ;  but  now  there  was  no  time  to  spare  for  that  process. 
The  cards  used  were  blocks  of  wood  nearly  square,  with  a  handle 
and  slanting  iron  teeth.  The  wool  was  combed  by  these  cards 
until  it  was  made  into  soft,  long  rolls,  when  it  was  ready 
for  spinning. 

After  Kate  and  Mary  came  back  from  the  shearing,  they  said 
they  would  do  the  carding  so  that  their  mother  and  Deborah 
could  commence  to  spin.  They  owned  two  pairs  of  cards,  and 
had  borrowed  an  extra  spinning  wheel  from  a  neighbor. 

As  soon  as  yarn  enough  was  spun  the  loom  was  prepared,  and 
the  weaving  of  the  cloth  begun.  They  all  took  turns  at  the 
loom,  and,  when  the  cloth  was  made,  all  helped  in  the  sewing ; 
so  that  by  working  all  night  the  trousers  were  finished  in  good 
season,  and  put  in  the  bundle  which  John's  mother  packed  for 
him  the  next  morning. 

Josephine  Jar  vis. 

Cobden,  III 


WOOL, 


(A  picture  of  sheep,  some  wool  in  its  natural  state,  worsteds 
colored  and  white,  very  coarse  white  flannel,  other  woolen  goods, 
the  eraser,  the  worsted  balls,  and  cotton  and  silk  for  contrast, 
would  be  a  good  equipment  of  objects  for  this  talk.  Like  the 
cow,  the  sheep  is  less  familiar  to  our  city  children  than  its  pro- 
ducts, so  we  take  the  products  as  the  starting  point. 

Exercise  the  sense  of  touch,  distinguishing  wool  by  its  rough- 
ness. Let  the  children  find  out  which  articles  of  their  clothing 
are  of  wool.)  At  what  season  do  we  wear  woolen  clothes  most? 
Why?  They  keep  us  warmer.  Yes,  the  heat  of  our  bodies  is 
kept  in  better  by  woolen  clothing  than  by  any  other.  Can  you 
think  of  other  things  which  are  made  of  wool?  Blankets, 
carpets,  etc. 

(Fringe  out  the  coarse  flannel  to  show  the  threads  of  which  it 
is  woven,  and  untwist  the  threads  to  show  the  hair-like  fibers. 
The  children  will  see  the  similarity  to  the  '*raw  wool"  better 
with  undyed  material ;  afterwards  speak  of  the  dyeing.  I  have 
seen  a  good  color  exercise  in  this  connection,  the  teacher  show- 
ing alternately  white  worsted,  then  worsted  of  some  color,  and 
asking  what  must  have  been  the  color  of  the  dye  used. 

Having  traced  the  woolen  clothes,  etc.,  back  to  the  wool,  ask 
where  the  wool  grew.  Describe  the  washing  and  shearing  of  the 
sheep,  not  forgetting  to  tell  the  children  that  the  sheep  would 
shed  much  of  the  wool  anyway  and  are  more  comfortable  with- 
out it  for  the  summer  season.) 


414  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


STORffiS. 

How  a  Little  Boy  Got  a  New  Shirt* 

{From  the  German.) 

There  lived  one  time  a  poor  widow  who  had  seven  children, 
and  all  must  eat ;  so  the  poor  mother  had  to  go  out  to  work  all 
day,  and  only  in  the  winter  evenings  could  she  spin  and  weave 
shirts  for  her  children,  that  they  might  not  go  naked.  Each 
child  had  but  one  shirt,  and  when  the  largest  had  outgrown  his, 
it  went  to  the  next  in  size.  So  it  happened  that  the  shirt  that 
came  to  the  youngest  was  always  so  thin  that  the  sun  shone 
through  it. 

The  youngest  child  was  a  happy  little  fellow  four  years  old, 
who  had  a  wondrous  love  for  animals  and  flowers.  Whenever 
he  saw  a  lamb  he  ran  to  find  fragrant  leaves  to  feed  it ;  when  he 
found  a  young  bird  that  had  fallen  from  the  nest  he  carried  it 
home  and  fed  it  until  it  was  grown,  then  let  it  fly  away.  He 
was  fond  of  the  spiders,  too,  and  when  he  found  one  in  the 
house  he  would  carry  it  out  of  doors,  saying:  ''This  little 
creature  shall  also  live."  But  one  time  his  little  shirt  had  be- 
come so  thin  and  old  that  it  fell  from  his  body,  and  as  it  was 
summer  and  his  mother  must  go  to  her  day's  work,  she  could  not 
make  him  another.  So  he  ran  about  just  as  the  dear  God  had 
made  him. 

One  day  as  he  was  hunting  for  berries  in  the  forest,  he  met  a 
Lamb  which  looked  kindly  at  him  and  said:  ''Where  is  your 
little  shirt?  "  The  little  boy  answered  sadly,  "  I  have  none  and 
my  mother  cannot  make  me  one  till  next  winter.  But  no,  the 
new  one  will  be  for  my  oldest  sister  and  mine  will  be  an  old  one. 
Oh,  if  I  only  once  could  have  a  new  shirt!  "  Then  the  Lamb 
said  :  "  I  am  sorry  for  you,  I  will  give  you  my  wool  and  you  can 
have  a  new  shirt  made  of  it."  So  the  Lamb  pulled  all  his  wool 
off  and  gave  it  to  the  little  boy. 

As  he  now  passed  by  a  thorn  bush  with  his  wool,  the  Bush 
called,  "What  are  you  carrying  there?"  "Wool,"  said  the 
little  one,  "to  make  me  a  shirt."     "Give  it  to  me,"  said  the 


SHEARING  THE  SHEEP. 


416  IN   THE  CHILD* S   WORLD. 

Thorn  Bush,  *'  I  will  card  it  for  you."  The  boy  gave  his  wool  to 
the  bush,  which  passed  his  thorny  branches  to  and  fro  and 
carded  the  wool  most  beautifully.  "Carry  it  carefully,"  cried 
the  Bush,  "  so  that  you  do  not  spoil  it." 

So  he  carried  the  soft  rolls  along  carefully  till  he  saw  the  web 
of  a  Spider,  and  the  Spider  sat  in  the  middle  of  it  and  called  to 
him,  **Give  me  your  wool,  little  one.  I  will  spin  the  threads 
and  weave  them.  I  see' already  how  it  is."  Then  the  Spider 
began  and  worked  busily  with  his  little  feet,  and  spun  and  wove 
the  finest  piece  of  cloth  you  ever  saw,  and  gave  it  to  the  child, 
who  trotted  merrily  along  with  it  till  he  came  to  a  brook,  and 
there  sat  a  great  Crab  which  called  out :  "Where  so  fast?  What 
are  you  carrying  there?"  "Cloth,"  said  the  little  boy,  "for 
a  new  shirt."  "  Then  you  come  to  the  right  one,"  said  the  Crab. 
"Let  me  take  your  cloth."  And  he  took  it  and  with  his  great 
shears  he  cut  out  a  little  shirt  very  nicely.  "  There,  little  one," 
he  said,  "  all  that  remains  to  be  done  is  to  have  it  sewed." 

The  boy  took  it  and  went  on  sadly,  for  he  was  afraid  that  even 
then  he  could  not  have  his  new  shirt  till  winter,  when  his 
mother  would  have  time  to  sew.  But  pretty  soon  he  saw  a  little 
Bird  sitting  on  a  bush,  and  the  Bird  twittered,  "  Wait,  little  one, 
let  me  make  your  shirt."  So  the  Bird  took  a  long  thread  and 
flew  back  and  forth,  working  with  his  little  beak,  till  the  shirt 
was  sewed  together.  "  Now,"  said  the  Bird,  "you  have  as  nice 
a  shirt  as  one  could  wish." 

And  the  little  boy  put  it  on  and  ran  happily  home  to  show  it 
to  his  sisters  and  brothers,  and  they  all  said  they  had  never  seen 
a  nicer  one. 

Translated  by  Louise  Stuart. 

"  Kindergarten  Magazine.** 


Molly's  Lamb. 

Ever  and  ever  so  long  ago,  when  grandma  was  only  little 
Molly  Ray,  she  was  one  day  going  through  the  sheep  pasture, 
when  she  saw  a  wee  lamb  lying  under  a  tree,  too  weak  even  to 
cry  "baa-a." 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  417 

"Oh!  you  poor  little  thing,"  she  cried,  ** where  is  your 
mother?  "  and  then  she  took  it  up  in  her  arms  and  looked  about 
the  field  to  see  whether  the  mother-sheep  would  not  come  to 
her ;  but  the  sheep  all  went  on  eating  grass  just  as  if  nothing  had 
happened ;  so  grandma,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  walked  on 
slowly  toward  the  house  with  the  little  wee  lamb  wrapped  snugly 
in  her  blue  checkered  apron.  On  the  way  she  met  her  brother 
Ned,  and  showed  him  what  she  had  found. 

**It's  a  poor  little  stray,"  he  said.  **You  take  it  up  to  the 
house,  Molly,  and  give  it  some  warm  milk,  and  maybe  it  will 
come  to  life  again;  it's  almost  gone,  but  mother  will  know  what 
to  do."  So  grandma  trudged  back  to  the  house  as  fast  as  she 
could  go. 

**See,  mamma,  see  !  "  she  cried,  as  she  burst  into  the  kitchen 
where  her  mother  was  at  work;  "  some  bad  mamma-sheep  has 
gone  off  and  left  her  lammie,  and  it's  so  hungry  it  can't  walk  ! " 

Great-grandmother  was,  no  doubt,  used  to  this  sort  of  thing, 
for  she  at  once  set  aside  her  work  and  brought  an  old  basket 
from  the  shed,  and  with  some  soft  flannel  made  a  warm  bed  for 
the  lamb ;  then,  while  grandma  tucked  it  snugly  in,  she  warmed 
some  milk  which  the  half-starved  creature  sucked  greedily  from 
her  finger ;  after  eating,  it  grew  stronger  and  stood  up,  giving  a 
plaintive  *'baa-a  "  that  went  straight  to  grandma's  heart. 

"You  dear  little  thing !  "  she  cried,  "you  haven't  any  really 
true  mamma  now ;  but  I  will  be  a  mamma  to  you,  and  will  love 
you  and  take  care  of  you  just  as  nice — you'll  see  !  " 

And  when  she  asked  her  father  about  it,  he  said  yes,  that  the 
lamb  should  be  hers,  and  when  it  grew  into  a  big  sheep  she 
should  have  all  the  wool  for  her  winter  coats  and  stockings. 
But  grandma  did  not  care  about  that  part  of  it ;  she  only  thought 
of  it  as  it  was  tnen — a  clear,  woolly  little  playmate,  all  her  own — • 
and  she  loved  it  so  well  and  was  r»o  gentle  w?th  it  that  it  .lOon 
learned  to  love  her,  and  would  come  at  her  call  and  follow  her 
all  about  the  farm ;  and  she  took  such  good  care  of  it  that  it 
grew  very  fast,  and  its  coat  became  so  soft  and  fine  that  the  birds 
loved  to  come  and  carry  off  bits  of  it  to  line  their  nests  with. 

One  warm  spring  day,  grandma's  father  said  to  her:  "The 
sheep  are  to  be  sheared  to-day,  Molly,  and  you  had  better  see 


418  IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 

that  your  iamb  is  there,  for  it  is  quite  time  that  she  was  rid  of 
her  winter  coat." 

Molly  did  not  quite  like  the  idea  of  her  pet  losing  its  snowy 
wool,  but  she  knew  that  hot  summer  days  were  coming,  when 
the  lamb  would  be  much  more  comfortable  without  it ;  and  then 
the  men  were  always  gentle  and  never  hurt  the  sheep. 

So  after  breakfast  grandma  called  her  lamb,  which  was  now 
almost  as  large  as  a  sheep,  and  they  went  out  to  the  pasture  and 
down  to  a  stream,  where  she  found  that  the  sheep  had  all  been 
driven  into  a  little  pen  beside  the  water,  from  which  the  men 
took  them,  one  by  one,  and  washed  and  cleaned  their  shaggy 
coats  in  the  water  ; — for  they  had  become  quite  gray,  and  were  all 
tangled  and  burry — then  they  took  a  great  pair  of  shears  and  cut 
off  all  the  wool. 

Grandma's  lamb  had  a  very  short  bath,  for  its  wool  was  already 
quite  clean,  and  it  did  not  mind  having  its  wool  cut  very  much, 
either,  which  was  a  great  relief  to  grandma  ;  and  when  it  was  all 
off  she  gathered  it  up  in  her  apron  and  showed  it  to  her  lamb, 

telling  it  that  the  wool  that  had. kept 
it  warm  the  past  winter  would  keep  her 
warm  next  winter.  And  so  it  was,  for 
grandma's  mamma  took  it  to  her  spin- 
ning room  one  day,  and  after  combing 
it  out  very  carefully,  grandma  watched 
her  make  it  into  long  rolls  which  she 
hung  across  the  great  spinning  wheel ; 
then  she  took  one  in  her  hand  and  held 
it  close  to  the  spindle,  turning  the  big 
S>^>f^Pa^(.}<^  wheel  with  her  hand.    Whirr  !  went  the 

wheel  round  and  round,  turning  roll  after  roll  into  nice,  fine 
woolen  yarn ;  then,  winding  it  up  on  the  spindle,  her  mamma 
brought  out  a  buzzy  little  reel  that  wound  it  into  great  skeins, 
and  there  it  was  ready  to  make  into  balls  of  soft  stocking  yarn. 
How  soft  and  pretty  it  was  !  And  whenever  grandma  sat  down 
to  knit,  as  she  did  in  the  long  winter  evenings,  she  thought  of 
her  dear  little  lamb  in  the  warm  fold,  and  was  so  glad  she  had 
found  it  in  time  that  cold  spring  morning. 

Stones  for  the  Kindergarten  and  the  Home, 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  41$ 


Sequel  to  an  Old  Story. 

Mary  had  a  little  lamb, 

Which  grew  to  be  a  sheep; 
The  wool  upon  its  back  became 

Too  thick  and  warm  to  keep. 

Then  Mary's  sheep  did  with  the  rest 

Down  to  the  brookside  go, 
And  soon  again  it  well  could  boast 
"  A  fleece  as  white  as  snow." 

The  shearer  came,  and  with  his  shears 

Cut  off  the  heavy  wool, 
Till  every  sheep  was  shorn  at  last 

And  all  the  bags  were  full. 

The  wool  that  came  from  Mary's  sheep 

Was  spun  and  woven,  dears, 
And  made  into  a  nice  warm  coat 

That  Mary  wore  for  years ! 

Emilib  Poulsson, 


i 


COTTON. 


Cotton 
f»eU 


(Show  specimens  of  calico  and 
othe  r  cotton  goods .  Contrast  with 
woolen  and  let  the  children  find 
whether  their  dresses,  aprons,  etc., 
are  cotton  or  woolen.) 

Who  made  the  cotton  cloth? 
What  kind  of  threads  did  the 
weaver  use  ?  (Ravel  enough  cloth 
for  the  children  to  distinguish  that 
the  'threads  are  cotton.)  Cotton 
cloth  is  made  of  cotton  threads, 
just  as  woolen  cloth  is  made  of 
woolen  threads. 

What  are  woolen  threads  made 
of?  What  do  you  think  cotton 
threads  are  made  of  ?  (Show  cotton 
batting.  Do  not  call  it  **  cotton  wool,"  as  that  would  be  a 
confusing  term.)  Where  did  the  wool  grow?  Now  the  cot- 
ton grew  in  a  very  different  place.  (Show  the  seed-pod,  or 
boll  of  the  cotton  plant.)  Where  do  you  think  this  grew? 
Yes,  on  a  plant.  The  soft,  fluffy  cotton  is  just  the  covering 
which  Mother  Nature  has  wrapped  about  the  seeds  of  the 
cotton  plant.  (Describe  the  plant  and  show  picture  of  cot- 
ton   field.)*     Did    you    ever    see    cotton   growing?     It   grow: 


I 


*  "  Every  year,  in  March  or  April,  the  seeds  are  planted.  In  a  week  or  ten 
days  the  plants  show  themselves.  By  the  last  of  June  they  begin  to  bloom. 
In  the  morning,  when  the  blooms  open,  they  are  of  a  light  cream  color;  later 
in  the  day  they  change  to  a  deep  pink.  They  die  and  fall  oflE  the  second  day, 
and  then  the  bolls  begin  to  form.  They  grow  very  fast,  and  become  as  large 
as  a  small  egg." 

When  the  seeds  are  ripe,  the  hot  sun  bursts  the  bolls  open  and  shows  the 
beautiful,  snow-white  cotton  within.  Then  (about  the  middle  of  September) 
"  the  picking  goes  on.  The  fields  are  alive  with  busy  workers.  After  that  th( 
cotton  must  be  packed  into  bales  to  be  sent  away." 


IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD.  421 

only  in  the  warm  countries.  Tell  me  some  other  things  which 
^ow  in  the  warm  countries.  Yes  ;  oranges,  lemons,  bananas — 
all  these  need  very  hot  sunshine.  The  cotton  fields  must  be 
a  beautiful  sight  when  the  seed-pods  burst  open  and  show 
the  bunches  of  snowy  cotton.  Men,  women  and  little  boys 
and  girls  work  in  the  hot  fields  picking  these  bunches  from  the 
cotton  plants.  The  cotton  then  has  the  seeds  taken  out  by  a 
machine.  After  that  it  is  sent  to  the  mills  and  spun  into  threads  ; 
and  then  our  good  friend  the  weaver  goes  to  work  and  weaves 
the  threads  into  cotton  cloth  for  Johnny's  waist  and  Susie's 
apron,  for  papa's  s-hirts,  and  mamma's  dresses,  and  many  other 
useful  things.  Doesn't  it  seem  strange  that  some  of  our  clothes 
come  from  the  sheep  and  others  from  the  cotton  plant? 


STORffiS, 

Machinery  Magic* 

Some  years  ago  a  great  cotton  exhibition  was  held  in 
Atlanta.  All  the  machines  for  ginning  (taking  out  the  seeds) , 
spinning  and  weaving  cotton  into  cloth  were  shown  in  one  build- 
ing.    In  a  field  near  by,  the  cotton  itself  was  growing. 

One  morning  some  of  this  cotton  was  picked  in  the  field  and 
carried  into  the  hall,  where  it  was  twisted  into  thread,  woven 
into  cloth  and  made-  into  suits,  which  were  presented  to  some 
gentlemen,  and  worn  by  them  on  the  evening  of  the  very  same 
day. 

Holmes'  Third  Reader. 


Cotton  Field  Stories* 

The  sun  shone  with  great  heat  upon  a  certain  cotton  field  one 
bright  noontide.  The  people  who  had  been  working  there  all 
the  morning  had  gone  to  get  their  dinners,  and  the  Cotton  Plants 
had  the  field  entirely  to  themselves.  Now  if  ever  plants  talk 
together  I  should  think  it  would  be  at  just  such  times,  shouldn't 
you?  times  when  no  people  are  near  them?     And  so, 

**As  I  was  saying  yesterday,"  began  one  Cotton  Pla.nt,  **h 


422  IN   THE  CHILD*S  WORLD. 

•would  be  a  satisfaction  to  known  where  the  cotton  goes  after  it  is 
picked  from   our  bolls." 

**  Why,  it  goes  to  the  cotton-gin,"  said  a  Plant  near  the  edge 
of  the  field. 

**  Oh  !  yes,  I  know  ;  but  I  mean  after  that,  when  it  really  gets 
out  into  the  world.  I  have  heard  something  about  the  cleaning 
and  the  spinning  and  weaving,  and  the  strange  changes  that  are 
made  in  the  cotton ;  but  I  should  like  to  know  more . ' ' 

**  Tweet,  tweet,"  said  a  sweet  voice  near.  '*I  can  tell  you 
something." 

'*  Who  is  that?  "  whispered  the  Cotton  Plants. 

"  Tweet,  tweet,"  said  the  same  voice.  '*I  am  only  a  little 
bird.  My  wing  is  hurt,  or  I  should  be  far  away  in  the  pleasant 
Northern  land  now.     Last  year  I  was  there." 

**  Indeed  !  "  said  the  Cotton  Plants.  They  themselves  always 
stayed  in  one  place  and  preferred  it,  but  they  thought  that  the 
creatures  who  could  move  about  were  very  wonderful. 

*' Yes,"  continued  the  little  bird,  glad  to  have  found  listeners.  • 

"  I  was  there,  yes !   there,  with  my  mate  so  dear. 
And  our  days  were  glad  with  love  and  cheer. 
Happy  of  heart  and  swift  on  the  wing 
Naught  did  we  do  but  carol  and  sing. 
We  caroled  with  rapture,  but  soon,  oh !   soon 
A  deeper  joy  gave  a  sweeter  tune. 
For  my  mate  and  I,  in  a  tall,  green  tree, 
Built  the  prettiest  home  that  you  e'er  did  see. 
Such  a  cosy  home!     Such  a  precious  nest! 
But  the  brood  it  held— Ah!  that  was  the  best!  " 

**That  is  a  very  pretty  song,"  said  the  Cotton  Plants.  **But 
did  you  say  you  could  tell  us  something  about  what  becomes  of 
our  cotton  ? '  * 

*'  Tweet,  tweet ;  that  I  can  !  "  said  the  bird.  "  When  my  mate 
and  I  were  ready  to  build  our  nest  we  had  to  search  well  for  the 
materials.  One  day  we  were  flying  near  the  window  of  the 
house  in  which  lives  the  family  for  whom  we  often  sing,  and 
there  we  saw  the  mother  and  little  Nellie  sewing.  Pretty  soon 
we  heard  little  Nellie's  mother  say  that  the  birds  would  like  some 
threads  to  weave  into  their  nest,  and  Nellie  threw  a  bunch  of 
long   strings   out  of   the  window.     Oh,  they  were   so  fine  and 


"^"-^ 


PICKING  THE  COTTON. 


424  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

strong !  And — now  I  suppose  you  will  think  this  the  best  part 
of  my  story ! — those  fine,  strong  threads  were  made  of  cotton 
from  cotton  plants.  I  am  sure  of  it,  for  I  heard  Nellie's  mother 
telling  her  the  whole  story.  So  that  is  what  becomes  of  part  of 
your  cotton ;  Nellie  and  her  mother  sew  with  it  and  give  some 
to  the  birds  for  nest  making." 

The  Cotton  Plants  had. listened  eagerly  and  now  thanked  the 
little  bird  for  his  pretty  story, — **  As  pretty  as  your  songs,"  said 
they,  **  and  that  is  high  praise.  Come  and  tell  it  to  us  again 
sometime." 

"Gladly,"  answered  the  little  bird.  ** Truth  to  tell,  I  am 
somewhat  lonely  at  times,  far  .away  from  my  friends  in  the 
North,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  visit  you." 

While  the  bird  was  telling  his  story,  some  of  the  Sunbeams 
which  were  playing  about  the  field  had  drawn  near  to  listen,  and 
now  they  began  to  speak. 

'*We  know  something  about  cotton,"  said  they.  "  Often  and 
often  have  we  heard  the  women  say  that  there  was  nothing  like 
the  sunshine  for  bleaching  cotton  cloth;  and  often  have  we 
bleached  it.  But  that  is  not  all,  for  we  not  only  bleach  the 
cotton  cloth — yards  upon  yards  of  it — but  there  is  scarcely  a  day 
that  we  do  not,  with  the  wind's  help,  dry  many  things  that  are 
made  of  it,  when  they  have  been  washed  and  hang  clean  and 
wet  upon  the  line." 

**  Yes,  indeed,"  said  a  little  Breeze,  rustling  among  the  Cotton 
Plants.  *'  The  Sunbeams  and  I  often  work  together  at  drying 
clothes,  and  most  of  them  are  made  of  cotton  cloth — dresses, 
aprons,  underclothes,  stockings,  sheets  and  pillowcases.  Surely, 
Cotton  Plants,  you  may  feel  that  you  are  very  useful,  for  people 
would  scarcely  know  how  to  get  along  without  the  cloth  which 
is  made  from  your  cotton." 

**  These  are  delightful  stories,"  said  the  Cotton  Plants,  nod- 
ding to  one  another,  smiling  as  the  Sunbeams  danced  among 
them,  and  spreading  out  their  leaves  for  the  breeze  to  play  with. 
"  Now  we  can  grow  with  more  pleasure  than  ever  before.  Thank 
you,  good  friends ;  come  again  and  tell  us  these  stories  often." 

Soon  after  this  the  workmen  came  back  into  the  field. 
With  them  came  a  gentleman  and  his  two  children.     The  Cotton 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  425 

Plants,  of  course,  did  not  talk  any  more  then,  but  oh,  how  they 
listened  !  for  they  soon  found  that  what  they  heard  was  of  special 
interest.  It  was  more  of  the  same  story  which  the  little  Bird 
had  begun  and  the  Sunbeams  and  the  Breeze  had  continued. 
The  gentleman  was  talking  with  his  children  about  what  be- 
comes of  the  cotton  after  it  is  taken  from  the  field ;  and  he  not 
only  spoke  of  cotton  thread  and  cotton  cloth,  but  of  cotton 
batting  for  comforters  and  quilts,  of  cotton  which  doctors  use, 
of  cotton  cord  and  cotton  lamp  wicks,  and  of  still  other  things 
made  of  cotton ;  more  than  you  or  I  could  remember  !  He  told, 
too,  of  old,  worn-out  cotton  rags  being  changed  into  beautiful 
paper — paper  out  of  which  books  are  made,  paper  for  letters 
to  be  written  upon,  and  paper  of  beautiful  colors — "the  very 
paper,  Teddy,  out  of  which  were  made  the  squares  of  folding 
paper  and  the  weaving  mats  and  strips  which  you  used  to  have 
in  kindergarten,"  he  added,  smiling  down  at  the  little  boy. 

Teddy  and  his  sister  were  looking  with  much  wonder  at  the 
cotton  plants,  half  expecting  to  see  some  of  the  things  which 
their  father  mentioned  sprouting  out  somewhere  upon  them; 
and  they  treasured  long  afterward  the  cotton  boll  and  spray  of 
leaves  which  were  given  to  each  of  them  as  they  went  away  from 
the  field. 

You  may  believe  that  the  Cotton  Plants  were  full  of  wonder 
and  joy.  They  had  even  ventured  to  say  to  the  gentleman,  as 
they  had  said  to  the  Bird  and  the  Sunbeams  and  the  Breeze, 
**  Thank  you,  good  friend.  Come  again  and  tell  us  these 
delightful  stories  often."  But  the  gentleman,  far  from  under- 
standing a  word,  had  not  even  seemed  to  know  that  they  were 
speaking.  So  the  Cotton  Plants  contented  themselves  with 
telling  the  story  to  one  another  whenever  they  talked  together. 

The  little  Bird  kept  his  word  and  came  again  and  again,  as 
did  also  the  Sunbeams  and  the  Breeze ;  they  were  always  ready 
to  tell  the  same  stories  they  had  told  before,  of  what  becomes  of 
the  cotton,  and  the  Cotton  Plants  were  as  happy  as  the  day  was 
long.  And  surely  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  Cotton  Plants  were 
pleased  to  know  that  they  were  of  so  much  use  in  the  world,  is 
it?     For  what  is  better  worth  being  glad  about  than  that? 

Emilie  Poulsson. 


LINEN, 


The  children  will  prol^ably  have  difficulty 
in  distinguishing  cotton  and  linen,  though 
the  latter  is  colder  to  the  touch. 

Speak  of  the  superior  durability  of  linen 
and  its  usefulness  in  bandaging,  etc.  Flax- 
seed should  have  been  planted,  so  that  a 
plant  would  be  ready  to  illustrate  this  talk. 

The  process  by  which  the  raw 
material  is  converted  into  the  finished 
linen,  and,  indeed,  the  whole  subject- 
matter  for  a  talk  on  linen  or  on  paper, 
are  presented  effectively  in  Andersen's  story. 
For  the  children  the  details  of  manufacturing 
processes  are  unimportant,  and  descriptions  of 
them  would  be  tedious  ;  but  it  is  different  with  the 
chief  steps  in  such  transformations  as  from  the 
flax  plant  to  linen,  and  from  rags  to  paper.  A  visit  to  a  paper 
mill  would  stimulate  the  teacher's  interest. 


STORffiS- 
The  Flax. 

The  Flax  was  in  full  bloom ;  it  had  pretty  little  blue  flowers,  as 
delicate  as  the  wings  of  a  moth,  or  even  more  so.  The  sun 
shone,  and  the  showers  watered  it ;  and  this  was  just  as  good  for 
the  Flax  as  it  is  for  little  children  to  be  washed  and  then  kissed 
by  their  mi^ther.  They  look  much  prettier  for  it,  and  so  did 
the  Flax. 


•"TKeMa^chine 
I  thab-bea.t& 
the-rA9Ssto  pulp. 


FROM  FLAX  TO  PAPER. 


427 


428  IN  THE  child's  world. 

** People  say  that  I  look  exceedingly  well/'  said  the  Flax,  *'  and 
that  I  am  so  fine  and  long  that  I  shall  make  a  beautiful  piece  of 
linen.  How  fortunate  I  am ;  it  makes  me  so  happy,  it  is  such  a 
pleasant  thing  to  know  that  something  can  be  made  of  me. 
How  the  sunshine  cheers  me,  and  how  sweet  and  refreshing 
is  the  rain ;  my  happiness  overpowers  me,  no  one  in  the  world 
can  feel  happier  than  I  am." 

**  Ah,  yes,  no  doubt,"  said  the  Fern,  *'but  you  do  not  know 
the  world  yet  as  well  as  I  do,  for  my  sticks  are  knotty;  "  and 
then  it  sang  quite  mournfully — 

"  Snip,  snap,  snurre, 
Basse  lurre: 
The  song  is  ended." 

'*No,  it  is  not  ended,"  said  the  Flax.  **  To-morrow  the  sun 
will  shine,  or  the  rain  descend.  I  feel  that  I  am  growing.  I 
feel  that  I  am  in  full  blossom.  I  am  the  happiest  of  all 
creatures." 

Well,  one  day  some  people  came,  who  took  hold  of  the  Flax 
and  pulled  it  up  by  the  roots ;  this  was  painful ;  then  it  was 
laid  in  water  as  if  they  intended  to  drown  it ;  and,  after  that, 
placed  near  a  fire  as  if  it  were  to  be  roasted ;  all  this  was  very 
shocking.  '*We  cannot  expect  to  be  happy  always,"  said  the 
Flax ;  **  by  experiencing  evil,  as  well  as  good,  we  become  wise." 
And  certainly  there  was  plenty  of  evil  in  store  for  the  Flax.  It 
was  steeped,  and  roasted,  and  broken,  and  combed ;  indeed,  it 
scarcely  knew  what  was  done  to  it.  At  last  it  was  put  on  the 
spinning  wheel.  **  Whirr,  whirr,"  went  the  wheel  so  quickly 
that  the  Flax  could  not  collect  its  thoughts.  **  Well  I  have  been 
very  happy,"  he  thought  in  the  midst  of  his  pain,  *'and  must 
be  content  with  the  past;"  and  contented  he  remained  till  he 
was  put  on  the  loom,  and  became  a  beautiful  piece  of  white 
Linen.  All  the  Flax,  even  to  the  last  stalk,  was  used  in  making 
this  one  piece.  **Well,  this  is  quite  wonderful;  I  could  not 
have  believed  that  I  should  be  so  favored  by  fortune.  The  Fern 
really  was  not  wrong  with  its  song  of 

*  Snip,  snap,  snurre, 
Basse  lurre.' 


IN   THE   child's   WORLD.  429 

But  the  song  is  not  ended  yet,  I  am  sure ;  it  is  only  just 
beginning.  How  wonderful  it  is,  that  after  all  I  have  suf- 
fered, I  am  made  something  of  at  last ;  I  am  the  luckiest  per- 
son in  the  world — so  strong  and  fine  ;  and  how  white,  and  what 
a  length !  This  is  something  different  to  being  a  mere  plant 
and  bearing  flowers.  Then,  I  had  no  attention,  nor  any  water 
unless  it  rained ;  now,  I  am  watched  and  taken  care  of.  Every 
morning  the  maid  turns  me  over,  and  I  have  a  shower  bath 
from  the  watering  pot  every  evening.  Yes,  and  the  clergy- 
man's wife  noticed  me,  and  said  I  was  the  best  piece  of 
Linen  in  the  whole  parish.  I  cannot  be  happier  than  I  am 
now." 

After  some  time,  the  Linen  was  taken  into  the  house,  placed 
under  the  scissors,  and  cut  and  torn  into  pieces,  and  then  pricked 
with  needles.  This  certainly  was  not  pleasant ;  but  at  last  it  was 
made  into  twelve  garments  of  that  kind  which  people  do  not 
like  to  name,  and  yet  everybody  should  wear  one.  **See,  now, 
then,"  said  the  Flax;  **I  have  become  something  of  importance. 
This  was  my  destiny ;  it  is  quite  a  blessing.  Now  I  shall  be  of 
some  use  in  the  world,  as  every  one  ought  to  be  ;  it  is  the  only 
way  to  be  happy.  I  am  now  divided  into  twelve  pieces,  and  yet 
we  are  all  one  and  the  same  in  the  whole  dozen.  It  is  most 
extraordinary  good  fortune." 

Years  passed  away ;  and  at  last  the  Linen  was  so  worn  it  could 
scarcely  hold  together.  *'  It  must  end  very  soon,"  said  the  pieces 
to  each  other;  **we  would  gladly  ha\3  held  together  a  little 
longer,  but  it  is  useless  to  expect  impossibilities."  And  at  length 
they  fell  into  rags  and  tatters,  and  thought  it  was  all  over  with 
them,  for  they  were  torn  to  shreds,  and  steeped  in  water,  and 
made  into  a  pulp,  and  dried,  and  they  knew  not  what  besides, 
till  all  at  once  they  found  themselves  beautiful  white  paper. 
**  Well,  now,  this  is  a  surprise  ;  a  glorious  surprise,  too,"  said  the 
Paper.  *'^I  am  now  finer  than  ever,  and  I  shall  be  written  upon, 
and  who  can  tell  what  fine  things  I  may  have  written  upon  me. 
This  is  wonderful  luck  !  "  And  sure  enough,  the  most  beautiful 
stories  and  poetry  were  written  upon  it,  and  only  once  was  there 
a  blot,  which  was  very  fortunate.  Then  people  heard  the  stories 
and  poetry  read,  and  it  made  them  wiser  and  better ;  for  all  that 


430  IN   THE  child's   WORLD. 

was  written  had  a  good  and  sensible  meaning,  and  a  great  bless 
ing  was  contained  in  the  words  on  this  Paper. 

*'  I  never  imagined  anything  like  this,"  said  the  Paper,  '*  when 
I  was  only  a  little  blue  flower,  growing  in  the  fields.  How  could 
I  fancy  that  I  should  ever  be  the  means  of  bringing  knowledge 
and  joy  to  men?  I  cannot  understand  it  myself,  and  yet  it  is 
really  so.  Heaven  knowr  that  I  have  done  nothing  myself,  but 
what  I  was  obliged  to  do  with  my  weak  powers  for  my  own 
preservation ;  and  yet  I  have  been  promoted  from  one  joy  and 
honor  to  another.  Each  time  I  think  that  the  song  is  ended ; 
and  then  something  higher  and  better  begins  for  me.  I  suppose 
now  I  shall  be  sent  on  my  travels  about  the  world,  so  that  people 
may  read  me.  It  cannot  be  otherwise;  indeed,  it  is  more  than 
probable ;  for  I  have  more  splendid  thoughts  written  upon 
me  than  I  had  pretty  flowers  in  olden  times.  I  am  happier 
than  ever." 

But  the  Paper  did  not  go  on  its  travels ;  it  was  sent  to  the 
printer,  and  all  the  words  written  upon  it  were  set  up  in  type, 
to  make  a  book,  or  rather,  many  hundreds  of  books  ;  for  so  many 
more  persons  could  derive  pleasure  and  profit  from  a  printed 
book  than  from  the  written  paper ;  and  if  the  Paper  had  been 
sent  about  the  world,  it  would  have  been  worn  out  before  it  had 
got  half  through  its  journey. 

**This  is  certainly  the  wisest  plan,"  said  the  written  Paper; 
**  I  really  did  not  think  of  that.  I  shall  remain  at  home,  and  be 
held  in  honor,  like  some  old  grandfather,  as  I  really  am  to  all 
these  new  books.  They  will  do  some  good.  I  could  not  have 
wandered  about  as  they  do.  Yet  he  who  wrote  all  this  has 
looked  at  me,  as  every  word  flowed  from  his  pen  upon  my  sur- 
face.    I  am  the  most  honored  of  all." 

Then  the  Paper  was  tied  in  a  bundle  with  other  papers  and 
thrown  into  a  tub  that  stood  in  the  washhouse. 

**  After  work,  it  is  well  to  rest,"  said  the  Paper,  "  and  a  very 
good  opportunity  to  collect  one's  thoughts.  Now  I  am  able,  for 
the  first  time,  to  think  of  my  real  condition;  and  to  know  one's 
self  is  true  progress.  What  shall  be  done  with  me  now,  I 
wonder?  No  doubt  I  ^hall  go  still  forward.  I  have  always  pro- 
gressed hitherto,  as  I  know  quite  well." 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  431 

Now  it  happened  one  day  that  all  the  paper  in  the  tub  was 
taken  out,  and  laid  on  the  hearth  to  be  burnt.  People  said  it 
could  not  be  sold  at  the  shop,  to  wrap  up  butter  and  sugar, 
because  it  had  been  written  upon.  The  children  in  the  house 
stood  round  the  stove ;  for  they  wanted  to  see  the  paper  burn, 
because  it  flamed  up  so  prettily,  and  afterwards,  among  the 
ashes,  so  many  red  sparks  could  be  seen  running  one  after  the 
other,  here  and  there,  as  quick  as  the  wind.  They  called  it 
seeing  the  children  come  out  of  school,  and  the  last  spark  was 
the  schoolmaster.  They  often  thought  the  last  spark  had  come  ; 
and  one  would  cry,  "There  goes  the  schoolmaster;"  but  the 
next  moment  another  spark  would  appear,  shining  so  beauti- 
fully. How  they  would  like  to  know  where  the  sparks  all  went 
to  !     Perhaps  we  shall  find  out  some  day,  but  we  do  not  know  now. 

The  whole  bundle  of  paper  had  been  placed  on  the  fire,  and 
was  soon  alight.  "Ugh,"  cried  the  Paper,  as  it  burst  into  a 
bright  flame  ;  "ugh."  It  was  certainly  not  very  pleasant  to  be 
burning ;  but  when  the  whole  was  wrapped  in  flames,  the  flames 
mounted  up  into  the  air,  higher  than  the  flax  had  ever  been  able 
to  raise  its  little  blue  flower,  and  they  glistened  as  the  white 
linen  never  could  have  glistened.  All  the  written  letters  be- 
came quite  red  in  a  moment,  and  all  the  words  and  thoughts 
turned  to  fire. 

"  Now  I  am  mounting  straight  up  to  the  sun,"  said  a  voice  in 
the  flames  ;  and  it  was  as  if  a  thousand  voices  echoed  the  words  ; 
and  the  flames  darted  up  through  the  chimney,  and  went  out  at 
the  top.  Then  a  number  of  tiny  beings,  as  many  in  number  as 
the  flowers  on  the  flax  had  been,  and  invisible  to  mortal  eyes, 
floated  above  them.  They  were  even  lighter  and  more  delicate 
than  the  flowers  from  which  they  were  born ;  and  as  the  flames 
were  extinguished,  and  nothing  remained  of  the  paper  but  black 
ashes,  these  little  beings  danced  upon  it ;  and  whenever  they 
touched  it,  bright  red  sparks  appeared. 

"The  children  are  all  out  of  school,  and  the  schoolmaster  was 
the  last  of  all,"  said  the  children.  It  was  good  fun,  and  they 
sang  over  the  dead  ashes — 


452  IN   THE  CHILD'S   WORLD. 


"  Snip,  snap,  snurre, 
Basse  lurre: 
The  song  is  ended." 

But  the  little  invisible  beings  said  :  ''The  song  is  never  ended  ; 
the  most  beautiful  is  yet  to  come." 

But  the  children  could  neither  hear  nor  understand  this,  nor 
should  they ;  for  ghildren  must  not  know  everything. 

Hans  Andersen. 


The  Flax  Flower, 

Oh,  the  little  flax  flower! 

It  groweth  on  the  hill, 
And,  be  the  breeze  awake  or  'sleep, 

It  never  standeth  still. 
It  groweth,  and  it  groweth  fast; 

One  day  it  is  a  seed 
And  then  a  little  grassy  blade 

Scarce  better  than  a  weed. 
But  then  out  comes  the  flax  flower 

As  blue  as  is  the  sky; 
And  "  'tis  a  dainty  little  thing," 

We  say  as  we  go  by. 

Ah!    'tis  a  goodly  little  thing. 

It  groweth  for  the  poor. 
And  many  a  peasant  blesseth  it 

Beside  his  cottage  door, 
He  thinketh  how  those  slender  stems 

That  shimmer  in  the  sun 
Are  rich  for  him  in  web  and  woof 

And  shortly  shall  be  spun. 
He  thinketh  how  those  tender  flowers 

Of  seed  will  yield  him  store, 
And  sees  in  thought  his  next  year's  crop 

Blue  shining  round  his  door. 

Oh,  the  little  flax  flower! 

The  mother  then  says  she, 
"  Go,  pull  the  thyme,  the  heath,  the  fern, 

But  let  the  flax  flower  be! 
It  groweth  for  the  children's  sake. 

It  groweth  for  our  own; 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD.  433 


There  are  flowers  enough  upon  the  hill, 

But  leave  the  flax  alone! 
The  farmer  hath  his  fields  of  wheat, 

Much  Cometh  to  his  share; 
We  have  this  little  plot  of  flax 

That  we  have  tilled  with  care." 

Oh,  the  goodly  flax  flower! 

It  groweth  on  the  hill, 
And,  be  the  breeze  awake  or  'sleep, 

It  never  stkndeth  still. 
It  seemeth  all  astir  with  life 

As  if  it  loved  to  thrive, 
As  if  it  had  a  merry  heart 

Within  its  stem  alive. 
Then  fair  befall  the  flax  field, 

And  may  the  kindly  showers 
Give  stiength  unto  its  shinuig  stem. 

Give  seed  unto  its  flowexs) 

MAStY  HOWITT 


SILK. 


n 


I°]l.tVn.. 


Silkworm  cocoons  can  usually  be  ob- 
tained and  should  always  be  shown  during 
this  talk.  Sewing  silk,  ribbons  and  pieces 
of  silk  will  also  be  needed.  See  whether 
the  children  remember  where  wool  and 
cotton  and  linen  came  from,  and  who 
were  the  chief  workers  in  the  manufacture 
of  the  goods.  That  the  beautiful,  shin- 
ing silk  can  be  traced  back  to  so  small  a 
creature  as  the  silkworm,  is  always  a 
delight  to  children.  The  following  stories 
and  verses  will  supply  the  points  for  a  talk  upon  silk,  especially 
if  the  subject  is  taken  up  after  cotton,  wool,  and  linen. 


STORES- 
The  Life  of  a  Silkworm- 

Once  there  was  a  baby  Caterpillar  who  found  himself  on  a 
broad,  green  leaf,  in  a  mulberry  tree  ;  and  on  the  stems  between 
the  leaves  were  pretty,  yellow-white  berries,  very  much  like  the 
raspberries  that  you  city  children  see  in  the  grocery  stores  in  the 
summer.  This  little  Caterpillar  lifted  his  brown  head  up  and 
stretched  himself  and  looked  all  around  him ;  and  he  thought : 
**  Well !  this  is  a  very  nice  place  to  be  in  !  "  Then  he  crawled  all 
around  the  leaf  and  went  underneath  it.  While  he  was  under- 
neath he  thought  he  would  have  a  little  fun ;  so  he  held  on  with 
his  fore  feet,  and  swung  back  and  forth,  and  then  drew  himself 
up  again,  and  had  a  grand  time. 

The  warm  summer  winds  played  in  and  out  through  the 
branches  of  the  trees,  whispering  to  each  other  and  rocking  the 
leaf  on  which  the  baby  Caterpillar  was  crawling,  until  at  last  he 


IN  THE  SILK  FACTORY, 


436  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

began  to  feel  tired,  and  rolled  himself  into  a  ring  and  took  a 
little  nap;  for  caterpillars  never  sleep  very  long  at  one  time. 
When  he  woke  up  he  was  very  hungry.  He  did  not  know  what 
to  eat,  so  he  thought  he  would  taste  a  piece  of  the  leaf  on  which 
he  was  lying,  for  it  looked  extremely  nice.  When  he  bit  into  it, 
it  tasted  so  very  good  that  he  kept  on  eating  till  the  whole  leaf 
was  gone.  Then  he  traveled  down  the  stem  and  found  another 
leaf  that  he  thought  he  would  like  ;  and  he  curled  himself  up  on 
that  to  rest  before  commencing  to  eat  again.  He  kept  on  in 
this  way  for  a  long  time — eating  and  resting,  eating  and  resting 
— till  he  grew  so  big  and  fat  that,  his  clothes  were  too  tight  for 
him  and  he  felt  very  uncomfortable.  So  Mother  Nature  went 
to  work  and  made  him  a  new  suit.  It  was  just  like  his  old  one, 
only  a  little  larger,  and  he  was  very  much  pleased  with  it.  But 
he  ate  so  much  and  grew  so  very  fast  that  Mother  Nature  had  to 
make  him  two  or  three  new  suits,  and  he  began  to  grow  tired  of 
wearing  the  same  kind  of  clothes  all  the  time  and  of  crawling 
around  and  eating  the  same  kind  of  food.  He  had  tried  eating 
one  of  the  nice  looking  berries  one  day,  but  it  had  made  him 
very  sick. 

Now  when  Mother  Nature  found  that  he  was  getting  so  fret- 
ful, she  said  to  him:  **  Well,  my  dear,  what  is  the  matter  with 
you?  You  are  not  the  same  contented  little  Caterpillar  you  were 
a  few  weeks  ago.     What  is  it?     What  do  you  want ?  " 

And  the  Caterpillar  said;  "Oh,  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure — but 
I  am  so  tired  of  crawling  around  on  these  leaves  !  I  wish  I  could 
fly  away  ! ' ' 

'*H'm!"  said  Mother  Nature,  '*  that's  the  trouble,  is  it? 
Very  well,  dear ;  you  are  quite  right.  All  my  caterpillars  have 
that  feeling  sooner  or  later.  Only  be  patient  a  little  longer  and 
you5/7J//fly." 

*'/fly!"  said  the  Caterpillar;  and  he  looked  at  his  clumsy 
body  and  thick  feet,  and  then  at  a  butterfly  with  gorgeous  wings 
just  passing  over  his  head.  He  was  so  amused  and  laughed  so 
hard  that  he  almost  rolled  off  the  leaf. 

**  Well,"  said  Mother  Nature,  ** wouldn't  you  like  to  fly?" 

**  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  Caterpillar,  ''  I  would,  indeed  1  but  wings. 
Mother  Nature  ;  I  have  no  wings  !  " 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD.  437 

**  Don't  be  troubled  about  the  wings,  little  Caterpillar," 
Mother  Nature  answered.  **  That  is  for  me  to  attend  to  ;  and  I 
generally  bring  all  things  right  in  the  end,  when  I  undertake 
them." 

So  she  taught  the  Caterpillar  how  to  spin,  and  then  how  to 
choose  a  good,  firm  twig  and  fasten  his  thread  to  it ;  and  the 
Caterpillar  went  back  and  forth,  and  back  and  forth,  with  his 
thread,  till  he  made  himself  a  nice  hammock.  Then  he  was 
very  much  pleased,  and  thought :  *'This  is  great  fun;  I  like 
this  spinning  and  weaving."  And  he  worked  so  hard  that  he 
forgot  all  about  eating.  He  spun  on  and  on,  and  wound  the 
thread  around  and  around,  until  he  became  so  dizzy  that  when  he 
stopped  he  did  not  notice  at  first  that  he  was  in  the  dark.  But 
when  he  found  himself  completely  wrapped  about,  with  no  way 
of  escape,  he  called;  ''O  dear  Mother  Nature  !  I've  shut  my- 
self in.     How  shall  I  ever  get  out?  " 

And  Mother  Nature  said  :  '*  Oh  !  you  are  all  right,  dear  Cater- 
pillar. Go  to  sleep  now  and  rest ;  I  will  tell  you  how  to  get  out 
when  the  proper  time  comes." 

So,  as  the  Caterpillar  was  very  tired  and  sleepy,  he  thought 
this  was  the  best  thing  he  could  do.  He  took  off  his  clothes 
(for  it  was  very  warm  in  the  little  cradle  he  had  spun  for  him- 
self) ,  and  tucked  them  all  down  at  his  feet,  and  then  lay  down 
to  take  a  good  sleep. 

Every  time  the  wind  blew  and  shook  the  twig,  the  cradle  swung 
back  and  forth,  rocking  the  Caterpillar  into  a  still  sounder  slum- 
ber. After  he  had  been  asleep  a  long,  long  time,  he  was 
awakened  one  day  by  a  great  shaking  of  his  cradle  ;  and,  as  he 
was  only  half  awake,  he  thought:  '*0h,  those  threads  which  I 
spun  must  have  broken  !  "  After  that  there  came  another  shake, 
and  Mother  Nature  called  :  '*  Wake  up  !  Wake  up  !  It  is  time 
to  come  out !  " 

And  the  Caterpillar  said :  **  How  shall  I  get  out?  It  is  dark  in 
here,  and  I'm  very  stiff  from  being  so  long  in  one  position." 

"Force  your  way  out,"  answered  Mother  Nature.  So  he  made 
a  little  round  hole  right  at  his  head,  and  pulled  himself  through. 

**I  don't  call  this  flying  !  "  said  he.  **I  believe  that  I'm  just 
the  same  clumsy  Caterpillar  that  I  was  before." 


43^  IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 

*'  Oh,  no,  you  are  not,"  said  Mother  Nature. 

Then  the  Caterpillar  opened  his  eyes  very  wide  and  looked  at 
his  feet  and  did  not  know  what  to  say,  for  they  were  changed 
entirely ;  and,  while  he  was  wondering,  he  felt  something  grow- 
ing looser  and  looser  all  around  his  body.  "  Oh  !  *'  thought  he, 
**I  'm  falling  to  pieces !  "  and  he  caught  hold  of  his  old  cradle 
with  his  feet  and  hung  on  quite  frightened,  shutting  his  eyes 
and  shaking  all  over.  After  he  had  hung  there  for  a  little  while 
he  grew  quieter;  and  finally  he  heard  Mother  Nature  saying 
gently  :   *'  My  dear  Moth  !  " 

He  looked  up.  **You  don't  mean  me/*  said  he;  **I'm  a 
Caterpillar!" 

But  Mother  Nature  answered,  **No,  not  now.  Do  you  not 
remember?  You  wanted  to  fly ;  so  while  you  were  asleep  in  that 
cradle  I  changed  you  into  a  moth.  Now  you  have  wings  and 
can  % !  " 

And  sure  enough  he  really  had  wings — beautiful  wings  !  They 
had  been  rolled  around  his  body  when  he  first  came  out,  but 
now  he  began  to  wave  them  back  and  forth,  and  soon  they  were 
dry  and  strong. 

Then  away  he  flew,  fluttering  gaily  over  the  green  fields ;  for 
now  he  did  not  have  to  crawl  about  slowly  and  live  upon  mul- 
berry leaves,  but  could  fly  wherever  he  chose,  sipping  honey 
from  the  beautiful  flowers. 

Nettie  Fleming. 


The  Silkworm. 

Silkworm  on  the  mulberry  tree, 
Spin  a  silken  robe  for  me; 
Draw  the  threads  out  fine  and  strong, 
Longer  yet — and  very  long ; 
Longer  yet — 'twill  not  be  done 
Till  a  thousand  more  are  spun. 
Silkworm,  turn  this  mulberry  tree 
Into  silken  threads  for  me! 

All  day  long,  and  many  a  day, 
Busy  silkworms  spin  away ; 
Some  are  ending,  some  beginning. 
Nothing  thinking  of  but  spinning  I 


IN   THE  child's  WORLD.  439 

Well  for  them!     Like  silver  light, 
All  the  threads  are  smooth  and  bright; 
Pure  as  day  the  silk  must  be, 
Woven  from  the  mulberry  tree! 

Ye  are  spinning  well  and  fast ; 
'Twill  be  finished  all  at  last. 
Twenty  thousand  threads  are  drawn 
Finer  than  the  finest  lawn; 
And  as  long,  this  silken  twine, 
As  the  equinoctial  line! 
What  a  change!     The  mulberry  tree 
Turneth  into  silk  for  me! 

Mary  Howitt. 


The  Goddess  of  the  Silkworm^ 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Chinese  people  dressed  chiefly  in  the  skins 
of  animals,  but  these  began  to  grow  scarce  and  the  question  arose 
as  to  what  the  people  should  do  for  clothing. 

According  to  the  old  stories  the  answer  was  found  in  this  way. 
Hoangti,  the  third  emperor  of  China  (2600  B.  C.) ,  had  a  wife 
named  Si  Ling  Shi,  and  Si  Ling  Shi,  who  must  have  been  a 
thoughtful  woman,  and  interested  in  the  welfare  of  the  people, 
began  to  try  to  find  some  material  which  should  take  the  place 
of  the  animal  skins. 

Nothing  did  she  find,  however,  even  with  much  thought  and 
searching,  until  one  morning  when  she  was  walking  as  usual  in 
the  beautiful  palace  garden  among  the  mulberry  trees. 

Si  Ling  Shi  had  probably  often  seen  the  silkworm  cocoons  there 
before,  but  on  this  day  as  she  looked  at  the  loose,  filmy  outside  webs 
of  the  cocoons,  the  idea  came  to  her  that  a  fabric  which  could  be 
used  for  clothing  might  be  made  out  of  these  delicate  threads. 
Many  earnest  people  had  to  give  a  good  deal  of  thought  to  the 
work,  and  many  trials  had  to  be  made,  but  at  last  the  way  was 
found.  The  threads  were  wound  off  from  the  cocoons,  twisted 
together  and  woven,  and  thus  was  made  the  shining,  rustling  stuff 
which  we  call  silk. 

The  people  were  so  grateful  to  the  wise,  observant  and 
ingenious  Si  Ling  Shi  for  her  discovery,  that  they  ever  after 
called  her  the  "Goddess  of  the  Silkworm."  E.  P. 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


A  Barnyard  Talk -324 

A  Boston  Thanksgiving  Story 93 

Adventure,  The  Minnow's  242 

A  Kitten  Rhyme T45 

A  Lesson  of  Faith 307 

An  All-the-Year-Round  Story 113 

A  Narrow  Escape 356 

An  Autumn  Song 48 

An  Old-fashioned  Rhyme 30 

An  Old  Story,  Sequel  to 419 

Ant,  The  Dove  and  the 80 

Ants,  A  Story  of  (Mrs.  Flyaway) 361 

Apple-Seed  John 59 

Apple,  The  Sleeping 7 

Apple  Trees,  The  Four 256 

Arbutus,  The  Indian  Legend  of 375 

A  Surprise 274 

A  True  Pigeon  Story 81 

A  True  Story  of  a  Dog 180 

Autumn 45 

Autumn,  Birds  in 11 

Autumn  Song,  An 48 

A  Visit  to  the  Weaver 408 

A  Wise  Old  Horse 151 

Baby  Buds'  Winter  Clothes,  The 47 

Bag  of  Winds,  Odysseus  and  the 69 

Baker,  The 82 

Bakery,  Nero  at  the 88 

Barn,  Christmas  in  the 119 

Barnyard  Talk,  A 324 

Basket,  The  Flower 106 

Beans  Came  Up,  How  the 3S2 

Beauty,  Such  a 317 

Bee  I,  The 344 

Bee  II,  The 352 

Bees,  Edith  and  the 34S 

Bees,  Solomon  and  the 360 

Bird,  Child  an  ' 290 

Birds 2S2 

Bird's  Christmas,  The 125 

Birds  in  Autumn 11 

Birds,  Lisa  and  the 13 

Birds'  Nests 292 

Birds,  The  Farmer  and  the 325 


Bird  Thoughts 16 

Birthday  Cake,  Teddy's '.8 

Birthday,  Froebel's 279 

Birthday,  Song  for  Froebel's 281 

B  irthday ,  Washington's 197 

Blacksmith,  The 201 

Boston  Thanksgiving  Story,  A 93 

Boy  Got  a  New  Shirt,  How  the  Little.. 414 

Boy,  The  Rhyme  ot  the  Little  Idle 346 

Boys,  The  Chestnut 49 

Breeze,  The  Story  of  a 390 

Brook  and  the  Water  Wheel,  The 237 

Hutterfly,  The 302 

Butterflies,  Some  Common 306 

Cake,  Teddy's  Birthday 88 

Cake,  The  Johnny 85 

Camp,  The  Logging 19 

Carpenter,  The 25 

Cat,  The 140 

Caterpillar,  The 313 

Chestnut  Poys,  The 4^ 

Chicken,  The  Lost .333 

Chickens,  The  Hen  and 331 

Child  and  B ird 290 

Children,  The  Cobbler  and  the 189 

China  Rabbit  Family,  The 86 

Christel.The  Dream  of  Little iii 

Christmas 117 

Christmas  in  the  Barn 119 

Christmas,  The  Birds' 125 

Cleverness  of  a  Sheep  Dog 178 

C lock ,  The 33 

Clock  Told  Dolly,  What  the 36 

Clothes,  The  Baby  Buds'  Winter 47 

Clytie 374 

Coal 214 

Cobbler,  The 181 

Cobbler  and  the  Children,  The 189 

Colors,  The  Nest  of  Many 297 

Common  Butterflies,  Some 306 

Constant  Dove,  The So 

Cornwallis'  Kneebuckles,  Lord 173 

Cotton 420 

Cotton  Field  Stories 421 


IN  THE  child's  WORLD. 


441 


Cow,  The 157 

Cow  that  Lost  her  Tail,  The. 161 

Crane  Express,  The 14 

Cycle,  The  Dandelion 69 

Dandelion,  How  West  Wind  Helped.... 65 

Day,  Mabel  on  Midsummer's 384 

Day,  St.  Valentine's 191 

Day,  Thanksgiving 90 

Deeds  of  Kindness,  Little 37 

Did,  What  They 371 

Discontented  Pendulum,  The 41 

Dog  and  the  Kitten,  The iSo 

Dog,  Cleverness  of  a 178 

Dog,  The 1 74 

Dog,  A  True  Story  of  a 180 

Dolly,  What  the  Clock  Told 36 

Dove  and  the  Ant,  The 80 

Dove,  The  Constant 80 

Do  What  You  Can 235 

Dream  of  Little  Christel,  The i ii 

Echo,  The  Story  of 257 

Edith  and  the  Bees 348 

Escape,  A  Narrow 356 

Express,  The  Crane 14 

Fairy's  New  Year  Gift,  The 138 

Faith,  A  Lesson  of 307 

Family,  Spotty's. 146 

Family,  The  China  Rabbit 86 

Fantail  Pigeon,  The 76 

Farmer,  The 321 

Farmer  and  the  Birds,  The 325 

Fed  his  Friend,  The  Horse  that. .' 156 

Fi  s  hes 239 

Five  Peas  in  a  Pod 53 

Flax,  The 426 

Flax  Flower,  The 433 

Flower  Basket  or  Loving  and  Giving..  106 

Flowers 366 

Flyaway,  Mrs 361 

Fountain,  The  Immortal 232 

Four  Apple  Trees,  The 356 

Friend,  The  Horse  that  Fed  his 156 

Frisk  Came  Home,  How 176 

Froebel,  Friedrich 276 

Froebel's  Birthday,  Song  for 281 

Frost  and  his  Work,  Jack 104 

Fruits 3 

Gifl,  The  Fairy's  New  Year 138 

Give  Thanks,  To  Whom  shall  we 219 

Goddess  of  the  Silkworm,  The 439 

Golden  Touch,  The 213 

GoodyTwo  Shoes  , 184 


Go  Sleep  Story,  Th« 115 

Gustava,  Little 329 

Haarlem,  The  Little  Hero  of 232 

Helpers,  Spring  and  Her 265 

Hen  and  Chickens,  The 331 

Heio  of  Haarlem,  The  Little 232 

Honest  Woodman,  The 23 

Horse,  The 148 

Horse,  A  Wise  Old 151 

Horse  that  Fed  his  Friend,  The 156 

Household,  The  Plant 373 

How  Frisk  Came  Home 176 

How  Patty  Gave  Thanks 94 

How  the  Beans  Came  Up 382 

How  the  Little  Boy  Got  a  New  Shirt..  ..414 
How  West  Wind  Helped  Dandelion 65 

Idle  Boy,  The  Rhyme  of  the  Little 346 

Immortal  Fountain,  The 222 

Indian  Legend  of  the  Arbutus,  The 375 

Jack  and  Jenny  Sparrow 285 

Jack  Frost  and  his  Work 104 

Jet,  My 144 

John,  Apple-Seed 59 

Johnny  Cake,  The 85 

John's  Trousers 410 

Kindness,  Little  Deeds  of 27 

Kind  Old  Oak,  The 48 

Kitten  Rhyme,  A 145 

Kitten,  The  Dog  and  the 180 

Kneebuckles,  Lord  Cornwallis' 172 

Lamb,  Molly's 416 

Legend  of  the  Arbutus,  The 375 

I.,esson  of  Faith,  A 307 

Lesson,  Pe-wee's 336 

Life  of  a  Silkworm,  The 434 

Linda  and  the  Lights 404 

Linen 426 

Lisa  and  the  Birds 13 

Little  Boy  Got  a  New  Shirt,  How  the.. .414 

Little  Christel,  Dream  of. 1 1 1 

Little  Deeds  of  Kindness 37 

Little  Gustava 339 

Little  Hero  of  Haarlem,  The. 332 

Little  Idle  Boy,  The  Rhyme  of 346 

Little  Plant,  The .377 

Little  Servants loS 

Little  Worm  that  was  Glad  to  be  Alive. 272 

Little  Yellow -wing 2S8 

Logging  Camp,  The ig 

Tx>rd  Cornwallis'  Kneebuckles 173 

Lost  Chicken,  The 333 

Lost  her  Tail,  The  Cow  that .1* 


442 


IN  THE  CHILD'S  WORLD. 


Mabel  on  Midsummer's  Day 384 

Machinery  Mag-ic 421 

Maple  Tree's  Surprise,  The 259 

Meeting  ot  the  Winds,  The 269 

Milk  Told  me,  The  Story  the 160 

Miner,  The 209 

Minnow's  Adventure,  The 242 

Molly's  Lamb 416 

Moon  and  the  Stars,  The 401 

Morninf -glory  Seed,  The  Story  of  a. .  *  .399 

Mouse,  Santa  Claus  and  the 122 

Mrs.  Flyaway 361 

Mr.  Stickleback 347 

My  Jet 144 

Nahum  Prince, 205 

Narrow  Escape,  A 356 

Neptune 236 

Nero  at  the  Bakery 88 

Nest  of  Many  Colors,  The 297 

Nests,  B irds' 292 

Nest,  The  Sparrow's 300 

New  Year,  The 131 

New  Year  Gift,  The  Fairy's 138 

North  Wind  at  Play 71 

Oak,  The  Kind  Old 48 

Odysseus  and  the  Bag  of  Winds 69 

Old-fashioned  Rhyme,  An 30 

Old  Horse,  A  Wise 151 

Old  Story,  Sequel  to  an 419 

Patty  Gave  Thanks,  How 94 

Pearl  and  her  Pigeons 79 

Peas  in  a  Pod,  Five 53 

Pegasus 154 

Pendulum,  The  Discontented 41 

Pe-wee's  Lesson 336 

Philip's  Valentine 191 

Piccola 139 

Pigeons,  The 73 

Pigeons,  Pearl  and  Her 79 

Pigeon  Story,  ATrue 81 

Pigeon,  The  Fantail 76 

Plant  Household,  The. 373 

Plant,  The  Little 377 

Play,  North  Wind  at 71 

Pod,  Five  Peas  in  a 53 

Prince,  Nahum 205 

Psyche's  Task 57 

Pussy  Willow 262 

Rabbit  Family,  The  China 86 

Rhyme,  A  Kitten 145 

Rhyme,  An  Old-fashioned 30 

Rhyme  of  the  Little  Idle  Boy,  The 34 

Rocky,  Stony  and 230 


Sandpipers,  The 390 

Santa  Claus  and  the  Mouse 13a 

Scarecrow,  The 396 

See,  Wait  and 7 

Seed,  The  Story  of  a  Morning-glory. . .  .399 

Seeds jj 

Seeing  bhoes  Made 187 

Servants,  Little 108 

Sheep  Dog,  Cleverness  of  a 178 

Shirt,  How  a  Little  Boy  Got  a  New 414 

Shoes  Made,  Seeing 187 

Silk 434 

Silkworm,  The 438 

Silkworm,  The  Goddess  of  the 439 

Silkworm,  The  Life  of  a 434 

Sleeping  Apple,  The 7 

Smith,  Vulcan  the  Mighty 206 

Snowflakes 220 

Solomon  and  the  Bees 360 

Some  Common  Butterflies 306 

Song,  An  Autumn 48 

Song  for  Froebel's  Birthday 281 

Sparrow,  Jack  and  Jenny 285 

Sparrow's  Nest,  The .  ...300 

Speckle,  The  Story  of 337 

Spotty's  Family 146 

Spring 263 

Spring  and  Her  Helpers 265 

Squirrels,  The  Thrifty loi 

Stars,  the  Moon  and  the 401 

Stickleback,  Mr 247 

Stony  and  Rocky 230 

Stories,  Cotton  Field 4^1 

Story,  An  All-the-Year  Round J33 

Story,  A  True  Pigeon 81 

Story  of  a  Breeze,  The....  ■ 390 

Story  of  a  Dog,  A  True 180 

Story  of  Echo,  The 257 

Story  of  a  Morning-glory  Seed,  The 399 

Story  of  Speckle,  The 337 

Story,  Sequel  to  an  Old 419 

Story,  The  Boston  Thanksgiving 93 

Story,  The  Go-Sleep 115 

Story  the  Milk  Told  me.  The 160 

Story,  The  Wake  Up 113 

St.  Valentine's  Day 191 

Such  a  Beauty 317 

Suggestions 212 

Summer 379 

Sun,  The  Wind  and  the 396 

Sunbeams,  The 39S 

Sunshine 393 

Surprise,  A 274 

Surprise,  The  Maple  Tree's 2J9 


IN   THE   CHILD'S   Y70RLD. 


443 


Tail,  The  Cow  that  Lost  Her i6i 

Talk,  A  Barnyard 324 

Task,  Psyche's 57 

Teddy's  Birthday  Cake SS 

Thanks,  How  Patty  Gave 94 

Thanks,  To  Whom  shall  we  Give 219 

Thanksgiving  Day 90 

Thanksgiving  Story,  The  Boston >  "93 

They  Did,  What .371 

Thoughts,  Bird 16 

Thrifty  Squirrels,  The loi 

Touch,  The  Golden 213 

To  Whom  shall  we  Give  Thanks  ? 219 

Trees 253 

Tree,  The 259 

Trees,  The  Four  Apple 256 

Tree's  Surprise,  The  Maple 259 

Trousers,  John's 410 

True  Pigeon  Story,  A Si 

True  Story  of  a  Dog,  A 180 

Two  Shoes,  Goody 184 

Valentine,  Philip's 191 

Valentine's  0:^7;  St. .. »« ,c 191 

Visit  to  the  Weaver's,  A. .  •  -  - 408 

Vulcan  the  Mighty  SmitH ► 3o6 

Wait  and  See •«•!••  '^ 

Wake  Up  Story,  The I13 


Washington's   Birthday 197 

Water,  I ai6 

Water,  II aay 

Waterbloom,  The 400 

Water  Wheel,  The  Brook  and  the 337 

Weaver,  A  Visit  to  the 408 

Weaver,  The 407 

West  Wind  Helped  Dandelion,  How. . .  .65 

What  the  Clock  Told  Dolly 36 

What  They  Did 371 

Willow,  Pussy . .  - 362 

Wind,  The 62 

Wind  at  Play,  North 71 

Wind  and  the  Sun,  The 396 

Wind  Helped  Dandelion,  How  West. ...65 

Winds,  Odysseus  and  the  Bag  of 69 

Winds,  The  Meeting  of  the 269 

Winter 98 

Winter  Clothes,  The  Baby  Buds' 47 

Wise  Old  Horse,  A 151 

Wood 17 

Woodman,  The  Honest 2» 

Wool 413 

Work,  Jack  Frost  and  His 104 

Worm,  The  Little 272 

year.  The  New 131 

Yellow- wings  ;Little 38S 


t 


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STAMPED  BELOW 

^^^^'nJr^I^I'  ^INE  of  25  CENTS 


